Confessions
by fayzalmoonbeam
Summary: **Completed 1st Nov 2008**. The Mills and Boon saga of Mildred de Brecy and Guy of Gisburne, based on the events of the series 1 episode "Alan a Dale". What if Mildred had married the Sheriff as planned, and then fallen for Gizzy? Epic and shameless :
1. Default Chapter

Author's Note: This has been a labour of love, and was written for a number of reasons. The most significant reason was because Sir Guy of Gisburne never got the chance to successfully "get the girl" in the series, and I wanted to redress the balance! Just as significant was something I learned from the AddiesFaction message board about Robert Addie wanting to play a romantic lead and never getting the chance. So here's my take on both of those bits of information, all 30,000 words of it.

In terms of the actual plot, I was taken by the scene in "Alan a Dale" (Series 1) where Guy of Gisburne has to collect the sixteen year old Mildred de Brecy for her wedding to the Sheriff. As she is standing by the altar in the chapel, it seems that there is almost an attraction between the two of them, which got my plot bunnies jumping up and down excitedly! What if the rest of the episode never happened? What if Alan never got to Nottingham and the outlaws didn't rescue Mildred? What if she had to marry the Sheriff? What if she then fell in love with the malevolent but sexy Gisburne? Well, this is my take on what might have happened. It's really cheesy, it's written like a bad Mills and Boon novel, and it's essentially a projection of the author into Mildred's character (but I think I've kept her, and the other characters pretty much in character) and it's too bloody long! I hope you enjoy it and take it in the spirit in which it's intended, an affectionate love story that tries to capture the spirit of the characters created in Robin of Sherwood.

The Deathbed Confessions of Mildred de Rainault

Chapter 1

There is little time left for me now in this world. I have known for some time that my life would end long before I lived to see grand children and other descendents. Something within me has always known that the impact I would have would be intertwined interminably with the destiny of the two men who brought me to Nottingham. And so it is time for me to confess my sins, and free myself from the secret that has brought love and pain to my life in equal measure. May God, and those who have been a part of that secret, have mercy on my soul.

It was the winter of 1209. I was a young, foolish girl when I was brought, under great duress, to Nottingham Castle. My father was overjoyed to rid himself of the daughter who was a little too gentle and timid for his tastes. I knew that part of the reason for his relief that I was finally to leave the family home was my growing resemblance to my late mother. My presence was more than a little painful for him, and as I grew older and more like her, he became angrier in his own grief. After all, my entrance into this world had precipitated her exit from it, and he had never quite come to terms with that. The doctor had tried everything to save her, but in the end the Caesarean that saved me cost her life.

As a result of this growing intolerance of my father's, when the Sheriff of Nottingham negotiated a very reasonable dowry for me, my father was satisfied that he could let me go with a clear conscience. Ten thousand marks was a good price to pay for ridding himself of a millstone in the shape of a youngest daughter. I did not have any say in the matter, which, to be fair, was as it should be.

However, there was something that my father hadn't taken into account; the capricious and passionate nature of his youngest daughter's heart. He knew, of course, that I had formed a most unsuitable attachment to the bard who had entertained the castle for the past few months. In fact, my attentions to Alan had been a key factor in my father's eagerness to make an alliance with the Sheriff.

I had fallen headlong in love with the bard who had been employed more out of convention than for my father's love of music, which was virtually non-existent. We spent our days together, and soon the music that so charmed me was forgotten in the delicious melody of first love. However, this was to be short lived. As soon as my father found out about the affair, he dismissed Alan and negotiated a dowry for me with the Sheriff of Nottingham. I was sold to him, and I lost my first love.

I often wondered if Alan came looking for me. After all, he spoke and sang of heroic deeds performed in the name of love all the time. I hoped that he was still alive somewhere, but I feared that he had been murdered by my father's men. I never really found out for sure. Curiously, I heard tell, in later years, of an ageing bard who scratched a living singing ballads about the lusty Baron's daughter, but many rumours abound in the counties and shires. In time, I learned to forget. I was brought to Nottingham, and my old life was over.

On the day I was to leave, I wept and begged my father to reconsider, but his mind was made up. He instructed my maid to dress me in my finest gown, and as the hour drew near of my departure, my tears fell bitterly. I was terrified. What life was I being sold into? I knew the Sheriff was an unpleasant man, and that he ruled Nottingham with an iron fist. The fact that I was expected to marry such a man was enough to drive me to thoughts of suicide, but my faith stopped me. I knew that if I took my own life, I would spend eternity damned.

So it was that I was prepared, with my trousseau and the dowry, for the journey to Nottingham. I knew that my new husband would not escort me personally-his interest in me was purely financial, and I was unsure who would be meeting me for the long journey. I remember saying goodbye to the maidservant who had looked after me since I was born, and brushing away more tears, both from her and from myself. As the sound of approaching horses hooves grew louder, I tried to resign myself to my fate.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The first time I encountered Sir Guy of Gisburne, he seemed to me to be the coldest, cruellest man I had ever met. Even compared to my father, whose cruelty was well known, this young knight surpassed all expectations. Curt to the point of rudeness to me, and almost as abrupt to my father, the journey from my home to Nottingham was obviously seen by him as an inconvenience. Indeed, to be fair, I suppose that's what it was.

Gisburne was tall, lean and dangerous looking. His fair, unruly hair was the only thing that lacked control about him. He was distant and aloof when dealing with his men, except when they made mistakes, when his rage and frustration knew no bounds. During the journey, I saw this side of him many times. In fact, it would be fair to say that the only creature for whom Gisburne showed any kind of affection was his horse, Fury. Many times during that long, tedious ride, when he believed that no one was looking, he would reach forward and scratch the ebony stallion's ears, muttering nonsense that he believed only Fury could hear. Little did I know then, that Fury was the only one who could truly bear Gisburne's mood swings.

The journey from my old home to Nottingham was uneventful, and gave me plenty of time to wonder about the life I was going into. As we rode through Sherwood Forest, I wondered if we'd encounter the famous outlaws, and their leader, Robin Hood, that I'd heard so much about, but the forest seemed quiet and peaceful. Before I knew it, we were at Nottingham Castle.

The days until my wedding were cold, and I grew increasingly more desolate. I still believed at that time that Alan would somehow come to rescue me, but as the wedding grew closer, I realised that that wasn't going to happen. The night before the wedding, I lay in my bedchamber and decided that I would put aside the childish feelings of first love, and try to make the best of this terrible situation. De Rainault was an odd man, and a formidable one, but at least as his wife I would want for nothing, and in time I might feel some sort of affection for my husband. What little I knew then of love.

I remember waking up on the morning of my wedding with a somewhat clearer head. If this was the way my life was to be, than I was determined to accept it. The Sheriff had sent a selection of fine gowns and jewels up to my chamber, and I tried to summon up the enthusiasm to try them on. Eventually I settled for the least garish, and as the maid fastened my veil, I knew that this was truly the way my life was going to be.

I spent some time in the castle chapel before the wedding, which was to take place in the main church hall. I tried to pray for my new husband, that he would be tolerant of my ways, but my heart felt as cold as the snow that was threatening to fall outside. Just as I was finishing my prayers, Gisburne entered the chapel. He'd obviously been sent to fetch me for the ceremony, and it was then that I realised there truly was no escape.

"The Sheriff is waiting, my Lady," he said quietly. I crossed myself one last time.

"I said, the Sheriff is waiting." Something about his voice touched me. I blinked away my tears and turned to face him. He was standing awkwardly by the door, dressed in long blue ceremonial robes. He was so tall that he seemed to have to stoop to avoid the low ceiling of the chapel. His face wore an uncomfortable expression.

"Let him wait!" I exclaimed, turning back to the altar.

Gisburne waited, as if he expected me to continue. "Oh," I said. "I'll obey him. That's what I'm here for, isn't it?" I saw Gisburne bow his head, as if he was truly lost for words. Perhaps something about my plight touched him, even then, for he did not seem in a hurry to take me through to the waiting ceremony.

"I shan't weep." The tears were threatening again, and, like a knife to the heart, the image of my lost love flashed before me. "Someone once told me that he loved me. Not the Baron de Brecy's daughter, or her dowry, but me."

I walked towards Gisburne, who looked as if he'd rather be anywhere but hearing this emotion laden confession. He didn't know where to look. I tried to meet his eyes, looking for some sense of understanding, compassion, even, and before the efficient façade descended, I think I saw some.

"I'll never forget him," I said softly. With that, it was time.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

It was a few days after my wedding to de Rainault that I realised that my new husband had no interest in me other than the income I had brought him. He was a proud man, who was preoccupied, almost to the point of mania, by the hunt for Robin Hood. I had heard much of Robin Hood, and I knew that, while my new husband hated him with a passion, the ideals of the wolfshead and his band were honourable, if, to my naive young mind, poorly executed.

It was a little later in my marriage that I began to understand the true significance of the outlaws' crusade, as before I married de Rainault I had had no idea about the plight of the common people. Their experience was as foreign to me as the stars were, and until I began to accompany my new husband out into the shire on business, I was ignorant of their suffering. My growing awareness of this fact was something I chose to hide from my husband, as I feared his reaction-after all, he had my dowry; there was nothing to stop him convicting me of treason.

As a result of this obsession, with the outlaws, de Rainault had little time for me. I found myself roaming the castle, and the grounds, trying in vain to fill the long, empty hours, and nursing my shattered heart and hopes. Alan was lost to me-that much I knew, but it would take time for me to come to terms with that fact. In spite of the vow to myself the night before my wedding, for a long time after I was married, it was all I could do to wander the castle like a ghost, mourning the life and the love I could have had.

The road to the recovery was a slow one, but eventually I found myself noticing life around me again. The spring flowers began to push their way through the soil in the castle gardens, and I began to wish to venture further outside. I knew that it was hopeless to try to convince my husband to ride out with me; the only time he ventured outside the castle was on official business, or on one of his schemes to capture Robin Hood. The concept of leaving the castle for pleasure was beyond him.

However, it seemed that I gave my new husband too little credit. There was some compassion for me outside of his obsession with Robin Hood. He noticed that I was looking a little wan, and, in his own brash way, made the suggestion to me that I should "get out of my sight and take Gisburne out for a walk," adding rather unkindly, "he needs the exercise."

I was surprised; Gisburne was my husband's steward, and although de Rainault abused and insulted him on a regular basis, he very rarely let Gisburne out of his sight. I was desperate, however, to leave the increasingly claustrophobic confines of the castle, and so I didn't question his motives too deeply. So it was that I found myself mounting the same white mare that had brought me to Nottingham, and heading out into the beautiful early Spring countryside.

Gisburne wasn't much of a companion that day. Doubtless, he saw it as an insult that he had been reduced in status to bodyguard, or worse, escort, to the wife of the Sheriff. He barely said a word during our ride out to the forest. His brooding, almost malevolent presence hardly made for a relaxing afternoon. I couldn't help noticing that he looked even thinner than usual; I wondered if the Sheriff had been working him too hard, in spite of my husband's jibes to the contrary. I knew already, from my few months at Nottingham Castle, that my husband thrust a great deal of the more energetic responsibilities of capturing outlaws and collecting taxes, onto Gisburne's broad shoulders. Yet, in spite of his gaunt appearance, his long legs barely needed to touch Fury's sides for the horse to respond. I remember noticing again just how good a rider he was. He hardly moved in the saddle, even at the canter, and, just as before, when he thought I wasn't looking, he would give the horse's ears a casual scratch.

"What a beautiful afternoon it is, Guy," I said brightly, after nearly ten minutes of silence. I wanted to take the opportunity to make the outing more pleasant for us both, so I addressed him by his first name in an attempt to make some personal contact wit him.

He didn't reply.

I tried again. "It's so good to get away from the castle."

Still no response. Guy, who, form that moment, in my own mind at least, became Guy and not Gisburne, stared straight ahead, guiding Fury through the overhanging trees. He was in his customary blue tunic and chain mail, but without the rather severe metal hat that he had been wearing during our last ride through the forest together. Again, I noticed his unruly blond hair.

"I can't remember the last time I took a ride like this," I persevered, determined to get a response from my sullen companion. Guy merely grunted and turned his head away. For the moment, I gave up. In truth, I was too taken with the scenery around me to concern myself any further with my escort. If he didn't wish to engage in conversation with me, then so be it. It was a beautiful spring day, and I couldn't help but be cheered by the signs of new life all around us.

That might have been the last of our conversation, had not my mount thrown a shoe five minutes later. The poor animal stumbled, and I, rather unceremoniously, tumbled down onto the forest floor.

"My Lady de Rainault!" Guy exclaimed, brought back from his sullenness by the quick turn of events. Sliding from Fury to the ground, he knelt and offered me his hand.

"Do not concern yourself, Guy," I replied. I was pleased that there wasn't so much as a tremor in my voice, although my dress was a little the worse for wear. "I've fallen many times from my father's horses-this time it was rather more of an embarrassment than an injury!"

To my surprise, Guy smiled briefly. I assumed he must have been relieved that he did not have to explain an injured wife to the Sheriff. No prizes for guessing who would have got the blame if I had been hurt. Helping me to my feet, he then turned his attentions to my horse. He ran an expert hand down the horse's left foreleg and then turned to look at me. "Throwing the shoe's lamed her," he muttered. "You'll have to take Fury, and I'll lead her back to the castle." Patting the mare's neck, he turned his attentions to me. I turned to face Fury, and Guy quickly put his arms around my waist and heaved me up onto the black stallion. I paused to wonder what my skirts would do in the absence of a sidesaddle, but I scrambled hastily onto the horse's back.

Fury started to shift around a little, but at a single word from Guy, the horse stood still. Again I marvelled at the horse's compliance. "He's well broken," I commented, taking up the reins.

"He knows what'll happen to him if he messes about," Guy replied lightly, but then the cool, efficient façade closed his features once more. "We'd better turn back." He stepped forward, and took the mare's reins in his right hand. I gave Fury a gentle squeeze and we began the trek back to Nottingham.

Guy was as silent on the return journey as he had been on the way out to the forest, and I realised that it was hopeless to try to engage him any further. He walked alongside me, head slightly bowed, and I noticed, from my vantage point above him, that his hair needed trimming as it curled around his collar. His neck looked oddly vulnerable. Startled, realising that I was staring, I turned my gaze back to the path ahead, but not before I felt a hot blush creeping up my cheeks.

That was the first of many of the same excursions. My husband obviously had little use for his steward in the following weeks, as Guy was always sent with me. He remained no more amused by this task than he had been the first time, and I still sensed that he thought it was below him. Nevertheless, he accompanied me without complaint, at least to myself.

It was early summer when something happened that meant I was to be confined to the castle for a time. On one of our treks into the opening areas of the forest, we were attacked. I had not known the outlaws to venture so close to the edge of the forest, and to be fair, it seemed more bad luck than intent that made our paths cross that day.

Two of them, that was all; a bear of a man with a huge beard and a smaller, stocky, rather aggressive looking man. They came as if from nowhere, jumping from the trees above us and landing directly in front of the horses. My mare shied, and Guy obviously thought she would bolt, as he leaned over and grabbed her reins. I took them gently from him, showing him that I could manage.

"Well, well, well, what have we here?" The smaller man grinned. "Are you taking your pet Knight out for a walk, my Lady de Rainault?"

I didn't have time to wonder how the man knew my name, before Guy responded.

"Silence, Wolfshead!" Guy hissed. "You do not address the wife of the Sheriff."

Quick as lightning, the smaller man darted to Guy's other side.

"I think you'll find, Gisburne, that I can address who I like, how I like." He drew a knife from his belt.

"Scarlet…" The larger man warned. "Leave him be. You know what we're here for."

Reluctantly, the man called Scarlet dropped back a little. He came round to my side.

"Your purse, my lady?" He asked, with mock courtesy.

I was just about to hand over the small leather pouch at my waist, when Guy interceded once again.

"You will not rob the wife of the Sheriff!" He shouted, and drew his sword.

"Guy, no!" I yelled back. "Let them have what they want, we don't want any trouble."

"I'll handle this, my lady," Guy replied, swinging a punch at Scarlet's head.

Unfortunately for Guy, Scarlet was too quick for him, and he grabbed Guy's arm, dragging him from his horse. I watched on helplessly as the two men fought, until finally Guy fell, close to the hooves of the horses.

"Guy!" I yelled again, more in worry this time. Throwing the purse to the other, larger man, I turned my anger on him. "Take it-it's what you wanted, isn't it? Now leave us be!" The man simply bowed, thanked me, and then dragged his companion away.

As soon as they were out of sight, I dismounted and dropped to my knees beside Guy. He had a bloody nose and a rapidly blackening eye, but he seemed to be regaining his senses.

"Guy?" I said urgently. "Guy, can you hear me?" I ripped the lace from one of my cuffs and tried to dab at his bleeding nose.

He struggled to sit up, and I noticed that he flinched away from my efforts to clean the blood from his face. "Get back on your horse, my Lady," he spluttered, wiping the residue from his face on the back of his hand. "We must return to Nottingham."

"But you're hurt, let's wait a moment-" I tried again. "The outlaws have gone, we'll be safe now."

"I said, get back on your horse!" Guy roared. He jumped up suddenly and walked briskly to where Fury was waiting. The horse had dropped his head to graze, and Guy, quite uncharacteristically, yanked the horse's head up harshly and mounted him.

He didn't say a word on the way home, and not even Fury received his attentions. As soon as we were through the castle gates, Guy handed over the horses to the stable hands and strode to his quarters, leaving me alone and bewildered about the entire encounter.

It didn't take long for the Sheriff to hear of our meeting with the outlaws. I was in my own chamber, where I had spent most of my nights since my nuptials, when Robert barged in unannounced. He and I had consummated our marriage, several times in fact-I do not wish for you to think that he was neglectful in his duties, but he expressed the desire that we maintain separate chambers for our mutual convenience. I had no motivation to argue, and in truth I was relieved to have space and time to myself. His face showed a mixture of anger and, surprisingly, concern.

"My dear, I hope that you are unharmed from your encounter with the outlaws?" He walked over to where I sat and squeezed my hand briefly. "I understand that you were ambushed on your ride."

"I am fine, thank you Robert," I replied. "It was poor Guy who took the beating."

"That imbecile!" Robert hissed. "I charge him with a simple duty and he cannot even protect you."

"He protected me as best as he could," I replied, earning a venomous glance from Robert.

"And still the wolfsheads robbed you?" He said. Pausing for a moment, he met my gaze, and the concern in his eyes surprised me again. "My dear, I think it best that you confine yourself to the castle for the next few weeks," he continued. "After all, I cannot allow this…unpleasantness…to happen again."

"Robert, I hardly feel that's necessary-after all I-"

"Enough!" Robert replied harshly. "You will stay within the castle grounds until I see fit. Do you understand?"

I knew enough to merely nod and acquiesce to his order. He seemed satisfied with that, for what he said next took my breath away.

"After all," he looked at me once more. "I cannot have the mother of my future heir losing her life in Sherwood now, can I?"

For the next few weeks I was again limited to the walls and grounds of Nottingham Castle. The Sheriff would not even allow me to accompany him on his own trips around the Shire. I had begun to make some initial visits with him, when he deemed fit, and I was beginning to get a clear picture of the pitiful state of the people who dwelled in the county. As I've said, that was when I began to realise that this was where part of my own duty lay.

True to his word, he began to visit me in my chamber more often, and it seemed he really was intent on producing an heir. However, when three months passed and nothing came of our nights together, he seemed once more to lose interest in the idea. As his interest waned, so he began to loosen his restrictions upon me.

But I digress. It didn't even occur to me that for several days after our encounter with the outlaws I didn't see Guy. I suppose I was too preoccupied with the attention that my husband was suddenly lavishing upon me. De Rainault was obviously momentarily obsessed with the idea of siring a child, and as such he spent nearly all of his time with me for the next week. We even ate by ourselves in the Great Hall, free from servants, associates and Guy.

The next time I saw him after the forest upset, was almost ten days later. As he approached the table in the Great Hall, where my husband and I already sat, I noticed that he carried himself rather stiffly. As he seated himself, he seemed to flinch at the contact with the chair. My husband must have seen me draw breath to ask Guy if he was feeling well, because he interrupted with "Ah, Gisburne, you saw fit to join us at last. We've missed you over the past few days, haven't we, my dear?"

Had I known to look for the malicious glint in my husband's eyes then, I would most definitely have seen it.

"Thank you, my lord Sheriff," Guy replied quietly, helping himself to bread and an apple. To my eyes, he looked more gaunt than ever. The bruise around his eye had turned from purple to an ugly yellow, and was the only colour on his blanched face. He ate little that evening, and every movement seemed laboured. I hoped that I would be able to ask him why he moved so strangely, should we have a moment alone, but that never happened. Even if it had, I reflected later that evening, from what I knew of Guy, he would not share the cause of his ills with me. I was still very much an inconvenience to him.

It wasn't until much later that I found out exactly where Guy had been for those ten days. I should have taken more time to find out there and then; I should have questioned my husband further about it, but both men evaded my curiosity. When I found out the truth, it horrified me.

The Sheriff had ordered his personal guards, those few men who were not under the direct command of Guy himself, to take Guy to the dungeon, where he had been soundly whipped for his part in the Sherwood ambush. I remember seeing the scars on his back, and asking him where they had come from, and even then he was loath to confess. It was then that I realised how much it had cost him to lose the fight with Scarlet. My husband might not have loved me, but he certainly wouldn't tolerate the embarrassment of an ambush on me. It was a horrifying truth.

De Rainault was certainly an indifferent husband, but he was never cruel to me, until possibly the end. I was under no illusions that he could be cruel; I had seen entire villages burned to the ground at his instigation, but to me, he was at best uninterested, and at worst rude. I learned over time, that his preoccupation with money and wolfsheads, not necessarily in that order, meant that he didn't concern himself too much with my actions. So long as I was there to share his bed when necessary, he left me to my own devices. It was this that allowed me to begin to redress the balance with the people of Nottingham, and in some small way, to further the cause that both Robin Hood and I believed in.

You see, I believed in improving the situation of the people almost as much as Robin Hood did. The difference was that I had the power and influence, if not the reputation, to make the small changes that would make a difference. For example, I saw to it that the percentage of grain given to the offices of the Sheriff from each village was gradually reduced over time, and my husband was willing, in his happier moments to listen. I also ensured that when my father died, which happened a few months after my move to Nottingham, I was able to channel my inheritance to better causes than my own (my husband being under the impression that my father had died penniless from fighting in the local wars and thus not digging too deeply into the matter). These were small gestures, but I think they went some way to redressing the balance.

Of course, these little actions hardly took up all of my time, and once again I was thrown into the company of Guy of Gisburne. Our next encounter of any note was during a reception for the Earl of Chester. It was Mid May and my husband had ridden to Chester to meet with the Earl before bringing him back to Nottingham, so the preparations for the Earl's reciprocal visit had fallen to Guy to manage. The Earl was one of the most prominent landowners in England, and as his lands bordered Wales, he was a strategically important ally. Second only to the Earl of Huntingdon in terms of land ownership, my husband saw him as a man of great influence and power, which undoubtedly he was. Therefore, everything needed to be in place for his visit, including the roles of steward and dutiful wife.

My husband had left me a variety of gowns to choose from for the reception night, and I was busy trying to decide which to wear when I heard raised voices from the Great Hall. Exiting my chamber, I recognised one of the voices as Guy's.

"You damned imbecile, I told you to put the venison and the pork on separate plates. Now the whole lot will have to be done again!" His harsh splutter was instantly recognisable.

"I'm sorry, my lord, truly I am," came the voice of the hapless page, who was obviously cowering in his shoes.

"Take it back to the cook, and don't make any more stupid mistakes!" Guy continued. Then, he raised his hand as if to strike the boy.

"Gisburne, leave that child!" I cried out instinctively. "I will have no boy, or servant for that matter, struck while I am the wife of the Sheriff." I might have taken to calling him by his first name in private, but as far as I was concerned, now was the time to exert a little influence.

Guy looked up at the balcony where I stood, and his eyes blazed with humiliation and anger. "My Lady de Rainault, this imbecile nearly ruined the feast."

"But it can be mended, Gisburne, so leave him be."

Guy's features flushed and he ran a hand through his hair in irritation. "Very well, my Lady de Rainault," he muttered. Then, to the boy, "Well, what are you staring at? Get back to the kitchen and sort out this mess."

As soon as the boy left, I walked down the stairs and joined Guy in the Great Hall. I was shaking with rage. "You do not hit children in this castle," I said firmly. "If you ever attempt to do that again, I will have you removed from your post-do you understand?"

"But my lady, I-"

"Don't interrupt me, Gisburne," I retorted angrily. "You will treat the servants with respect." I must have looked an absolute sight, barely seventeen years old and commanding a Knight who was almost a foot taller, and seven years older than I, but it worked.

Gisburne merely nodded, dropped his long back into an ironic bow and walked away. I had seen a glimpse of the cruelty that I had heard existed in this man, and I didn't like it.

That night, the banquet for the Earl of Chester went without a hitch. The food was exquisite, and I accompanied my husband and said all of the right things to the right people. If his guests were surprised at the youthfulness of his wife, none of them mentioned it to my husband. I had been brought up to play this role, and I carried it off with aplomb.

Fortunately, de Rainault and the Earl stayed up late that night, talking and drinking, and so I was left alone in my chambers. Guy was with them. Guy hadn't exchanged a single word with me during the whole evening, and as I retired to my chamber, I once again noticed his brooding, malevolent presence, slumped over the table, consuming more wine than was probably good for him. As I bid my farewells to my husband and the Earl for the night, I saw Guy's dark eyes burning with anger and humiliation once more. I had disgraced him, and he was not willing to forget that in a hurry. I sensed then that I had better watch out, as Guy of Gisburne could make an awkward enemy.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Time seemed to fly between the spring and the summer, and before too long, the hot summer days stretched endlessly before me. I was once more able to leave the castle, but only with Guy as an escort. He'd been reinstated as my riding companion as soon as my husband had realised that it was a duty that Guy hated doing. This, it seemed, was enough for de Rainault to order his steward to accompany me whenever I wished to ride; well, so long as my wishes did not interfere with any other business that he wanted Guy to perform. My husband still didn't permit me to ride alone; I was far too valuable a possession for that, but he allowed me to ride with Guy, of only on the outskirts of Sherwood and the surrounding countryside.

Guy was still sullen in my presence, and he tried to speak as little as possible on our rides out. I was unaccustomed to such hostility, and I tried many times to clear the air, but he was cold, yet polite. Before the ambush, he had been calling me Mildred when we were alone, but now he had resumed calling me by the more formal "My Lady de Rainault." I wasn't too worried-after all, I knew that the riding trips were a distraction and a nuisance for him, so I tried to focus on my own enjoyment. It wasn't easy with over six feet of blonde malevolence on a stallion next to me, but I tried all the same.

It was on a particularly humid summer's day that I decided to venture down to the stables to see if Fury was inside. The horse had been stabled for the past week or so, after he'd gone lame on one of the latest raiding parties to Wickham. Fury had stepped on a particularly nasty thorn, and, uncharacteristically for the horse, who usually protected his master at all costs, Fury had bucked, and Guy had been thrown. Unhurt, Guy had been left with Blaze to ride, a rather unfit ten-year-old gelding. I knew for a fact that Guy found this situation unsatisfactory, and as a result he had taken to overseeing Fury's treatment himself.

This was not an unusual situation for a Knight, even one in so high a position as the Sheriff's steward. After all, Guy had been tutored to take good care of his best asset-his horse, and so it was only correct that he should supervise Fury's recovery. However, it was unusual for him to spend so much time in the stable, and for him to administer the poultices and change the horse's dressings himself. I had overheard the conversation with the stable hand two days previously, where Guy had passionately berated the boy for apparently applying the wrong ointment. It had seemed to me that Guy had been looking for an excuse to vent his frustrations, but it did give him the perfect opportunity to dismiss the boy and care for the horse himself.

As I wandered through the main stable door, my eyes grew accustomed to the dim light and I could make out the rotund rump of my mare,   
Rosa, who had been brought in to keep Fury company. For some reason the two horses had formed an attachment, and her presence seemed to calm the tempestuous stallion, who had a tendency to kick the walls of the stable when he was confined. Guy had, naturally, grumbled about having the two horses in together, but even he had to acknowledge that Fury was a lot more docile with Rosa beside him.

I didn't wish to disturb the two horses, but it was a relief to be inside the stables and away from the oppressive outside heat. Slowly I walked towards where they were tethered, hitching up my skirt so that it didn't drag in the straw. As I drew closer, I could hear a low murmuring coming from the stall where Fury and Rosa were.

"You'll be right as rain in no time," the quiet voice murmured. "Then I can put Blaze back out in the pasture where he belongs."

I froze. The voice sounded so calm, so gentle, and so far removed from the angry stutter that it usually was. Creeping closer once more, but not wishing to alert anyone to my presence, I saw un unruly blonde head and a long back bent low over the large black stallion's left hind leg.

"It's just as well I'm looking after you now," the voice continued. "Otherwise you'd be boxed for the rest of the summer. Damned stable hands, most of them don't know their comfrey from their clay anyway."

I saw a pair of long fingered hands running gently up and down Fury's ebony leg, checking for any swelling around the cut. Seemingly satisfied, Guy gently picked up the new poultice and began to bind it expertly around the wound. The stallion stood as quiet as a lamb and allowed him to do it.

I was spellbound by his actions. He was so tender, so gentle with the horse-not at all like the brash, hotheaded knight that I had seen so often in the past, or the sulky, sullen man who accompanied me on the rides. I wanted to watch him for a moment longer, and so I stood as still as I could, as close as I dared.

Guy proceeded to give the horse a gentle brush. There was very little mud on Fury as he'd been stabled for ten days, and I surmised that the brushing was more of a bonding exercise than a practical one. All the while, Guy kept up a steady flow of conversation with the horse, sometimes nonsense, sometimes not. Fury seemed to appreciate the attention and at every opportunity turned his long dark head around to face Guy, butting him affectionately on the shoulder. At one point, I was certain the horse had seen me, as he seemed to give me a slow, appraising glance.

"Get off, you stupid bugger," Guy replied, the last time Fury made to head butt him. As Guy turned back to continue grooming him, I saw the briefest smile cross his face. Here was a man, I thought, truly at ease.

Not wishing to break the moment, I made to move away from the stable box and stole from the stable. Absurdly, part of me wanted to be involved in the situation I'd just witnessed-it was the first gesture of tenderness I'd seen since I'd been at Nottingham, but I knew that my very presence would restore Guy to the sullen character I'd seen so often. As I left, I couldn't help reflecting that I'd intruded on a very, very private moment.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The summer sun was at its highest at the beginning of July when Guy was forced to make peace with me. We were out on our usual ride, across the estate and then through the outskirts of the forest when a passing pheasant frightened Rosa. I wasn't fond of the birds at the best of times, and even less so when one flew up and across Rosa's path. She was a young, inexperienced horse and so she took off, taking me with her. Back then I was a very competent rider, but of course Guy had no way of knowing that. As Rosa quickened into a gallop, I tugged on her reins and tried to stop her, but I realised that she needed to work this one out for herself. Sitting back a little further in the saddle, I let her have her head.

Guy didn't see what I saw, however. Presumably with the memory of what had happened last time fresh in his mind, he gave Fury a hefty kick and managed to gallop alongside me. Reaching over an impossible distance in his saddle, he caught hold of Rosa's reins and managed to slow her to a reasonable canter.

"It's all right, Guy," I panted. "She just got scared, we're fine."

I caught for a moment the brief look of terror in Guy's eyes before the usual steely mask descended, and I realised what he was thinking-I didn't know at that time what my husband had done to Guy, but I realised enough to know that he feared the consequences of any injury or mishap to me.

Irrationally, I began to giggle. "She has her moments, this horse, but she's young. She'll grow out of it." The horses slowed to a walk and Guy righted himself in his saddle.

"Are you alright, my Lady?" Guy asked, all courtesy.

"I'd be better if you'd start calling me Mildred again," I replied, sensing that this was the time for a truce. "I know you've been angry with me, but for my husband's sake, we ought to try to tolerate one another. After all, you do seem to be charged with the responsibility of looking after me." I smiled wryly. "Not that I need looking after."

"Is that so?" Guy's attempt at a sneer broke into a brief smile. He sighed. "I suppose you're right. The Sheriff won't appreciate it if we keep bickering amongst ourselves."

I was tempted to retort that it wasn't me that was holding the grudge, but, for the sake of a truce, I refrained. Gathering up my reins I turned Rosa back to face the way we had come. "I think we should cut back across the fields today, don't you?"

Guy nodded, and we set back out for Nottingham Castle. I was relived that, for the moment, peace had been restored.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

It was late July when I decided to take a walk out to the fields where the Sheriff's horses were grazing. Well, I say that I decided, actually, my husband had ordered Guy to "get Mildred out of my way, and while you're at it, check the boundary fencing on the estate." Things had not been going well, either financially or in terms of the outlaws, for my husband over the summer, and his irritation had reached new heights. I was more than glad of an excuse to escape from the castle, even if this time it was a short walk rather than a country ride. Because of the excessive heat of the summer, the horses had been turned out into the fields and were only being used for "official" business.

Fury had recovered from his injury some weeks ago, and when Guy was not using the horse for his duties, he had decided to put him out into the field, for as long as the warm spell continued. Rosa and Fury had objected so strongly to being parted that she had been put in a field nearby, and that, for the moment, seemed to placate them both. She had been in and out of season for three months since the light had been growing stronger in the spring and summer, so they couldn't be placed together all the time, but she seemed temporarily, to be calming.

The hazy summer sunlight cast the fields and the surrounding trees with an iridescent glow, and there was a light breeze that rustled the uppermost leaves of the many oak trees that made the border between the forest and the fields. This was the easternmost aspect of the vastness that was Sherwood Forest, but I knew that the outlaws would not venture this far out of their stronghold. That was why horses were still grazed here; it was too close to the castle for Robin Hood and his men.

In truth, by this time, I knew that keeping me company was no longer a chore for him, but Guy kept up appearances by lodging the usual sulky protest to my husband. De Rainault had been far too preoccupied to notice the lack of vigour in his protest. Ever since our quiet truce, Guy and I had been growing more accustomed to one another, and, if the truth was told, I looked forward to his company with a pleasant anticipation.

He was a complex character, moody, sometimes immature and definitely bad tempered, but in quieter moments he was almost likeable. I even risked the very odd joke at his expense, which was received with alternate sulks and smiles, depending on his mood. As the days passed, I began to feel pleased that my husband put such trust in his steward as to allow him to spend so much time by my side. It was either a testament to Robert's trust in us, or his utter indifference. I was never sure which.

Today, when I met with Guy he was dressed in a shorter sleeved blue tunic and black breeches and boots. He obviously didn't see the need for the chain mail on a walk around the estate. His hair had grown longer, and I noticed that she summer sunshine had bleached it even lighter. He kept flicking it impatiently from his eyes, in a gesture that reminded me of Fury. I, rather flippantly, told him so, and he grimaced good-naturedly. He strode beside me, checking fences and grumbling half-heartedly about the "damned lazy" labourers on the estate.

"Pay them to do a decent job and they will," I responded lightly, hoping that I could finally start to change Guy's attitude about the common people.

"They're lucky they get paid at all," Guy grumbled. "They should be whipped senseless for the job they do."

I laughed, hoping, although not entirely certain, that he spoke in jest. I still couldn't be sure-his mood swings were frequent, and well known.

Suddenly, something caught my attention in the middle field. A black stallion was galloping madly across the pasture and didn't seem to acknowledge the wooden fence at the boundary. In a matter of moments he'd be up to the fence, and I wasn't entirely sure that he'd make the jump over.

"Guy, look!" I exclaimed. "Isn't he beautiful?"

Guy squinted against the light of the sun and put a hand to his eyes. Then, the squint turned to a frown.

"It's Fury!" He growled. "Has that bloody animal taken leave of his senses?" Guy jogged down to the boundary of the nearest field and climbed up onto the fence. He turned back to me with an odd look on his face. "Mildred?"

"Yes, Guy?"

"Is Rosa grazing in that far field?"

"As far as I know," I replied. "The Sheriff ordered them all to be turned out, and the stable hands know how close Fury and Rosa are-she's the only horse that can calm him."

Guy looked at me. "I don't think she's calming him at the moment," he said crossly, but shifting rather uncomfortably, obviously embarrassed about broaching this subject with the wife of his master. "Unless I'm very much mistaken, Fury's caught her…scent, and he's going to her."

"Scent?" I asked, and then blushed. "Oh. I see what you mean. But she's not supposed to be in season again."

"Well she obviously is!" Guy retorted. "And if she causes Fury to break a leg on that fence, I'll have her disposed of." In a flash he had vaulted over the boundary fence, and started to run across the field towards Fury. However, he might have had long legs but there was no way he was going to catch the stallion. Moments later, Fury had prepared for the jump and, as if my nervous intake of breath buoyed him up, he sailed over the boundary fence and onto the other side.

By the time Guy and I had caught up with Fury in the next field, it was hopeless. I had gathered up the lightweight summer skirt I wore, and in a most unladylike fashion I had sprinted to catch up with Guy, but to no avail. He climbed over the fence that Fury had just cleared, and then he turned to help me over it. I couldn't help noticing how warm his hands were as he took mine, and how the run across the field had brought colour to his cheeks once more.

"Now he's got this far there'll be no stopping him," Guy panted, looking as though he was about to try to do that very thing. He helped me to the ground and then quickly, self-consciously, dropped his hands. He began to walk over the field, and I sorted out my skirts and followed him.

Sure enough, there, under the trees, in the corner of the field was Rosa, and Fury was with her. We were a fraction too late. As soon as they came into clear view, a loud whinny rang out, and Fury dismounted. By the time we approached them, Fury was nibbling the sole dark patch on Rosa's neck and it was all over. The black stallion looked at the two human invaders and I was almost certain that he gave an amiable warning to stay away.

"Fury, you bugger!" Guy swore, heading towards the two horses. "I'll have you gelded."

Fury merely seemed to look back at his master with barely hidden disdain, if such a thing were possible. He wasn't worried by Guy's presence, but there was certainly an air of "Don't even presume to discuss this with me."

I again caught up with Guy and Fury looked at me curiously. He knew who I was, of course, but this was an odd situation and he walked around in front of Rosa, as if she needed protecting. I put out a tentative hand to stroke the horse's dark mane, and that seemed to reassure him that I was no threat.

"Careful, my Lady," Guy warned. "They can be unpredictable after…that." He was obviously concerned, and he put out his own hand to grab a handful of Fury's mane to lead him back to the near field. As he did so, our fingers became entwined in the unruly tangle.

Time seemed to stop. The accidental touch was an exquisite blend of warmth and nervousness, and as Fury swung his head to look at the two humans by his side, he pushed me a little closer to his master. I took an instinctive step forward and found myself very much closer to Guy. So close in fact, that I could feel the heat coming off his body in waves from where he had sprinted across the field, and hear his breathing, which was still a little fast. I noticed the smooth, unlined sweep of his jaw, and I could sense the hardness of his muscled chest a whisper away from me, and in that moment, everything changed between us.

Whether it was the scent of horses in season in the air, or merely the summer heat, something happened. Guy might have been moody, irritable, insecure and hot headed, but he was also young, virile, and totally unlike the man I had married, and I found myself wanting him. I raised a hand to try to touch him, and my fingers lightly pressed into the contours of his chest, desperate to make more contact with him.

I felt him freeze under my touch, although I knew my hands were warm. In that moment, he broke the spell. He knew; he felt it, he must have felt it, but his sense of duty to the Sheriff was just too strong. "We should return to the castle, my Lady," he said, a slight growl in his voice. "We need to inform someone that there may well be a foal soon." Stepping back, he opened up the gap between us and pulled firmly at Fury's mane. "And as for you," he addressed the horse. "You're damned lucky I don't geld you myself." He clicked his tongue and began to lead Fury back to his own field, leaving me temporarily alone, my heart beating madly.

He didn't say a word on the way back to the castle. The small thing that had passed between us in the far field was a closed book. It was, I suppose, as it should have been. But I knew things had changed, and I would have guaranteed that he knew also.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

It wasn't long before the subtle interplay that had happened in the field began to have an impact on my relationship with Guy. He, I knew, tried his best to avoid me over the next week or so. His duty primarily was to the Sheriff, as mine was, and he was terrified of jeopardising his position in the castle. As a result, he was absent from the castle from dusk until dawn on 'business', and de Rainault did not question him, assuming that Guy was raiding or trying to track down outlaws.

It was unfortunate for Guy that my husband decided, one week later, to have an impromptu gathering of the local merchants of Nottingham, and so a feast, with dancing expected, was prepared for the end of that week. As usual, Robert left most of the preparations to his staff, and so Guy was confined to the castle to oversee the arrangements with me.

Poor Guy. He hated being indoors at the best of times, and he was far more at home in the countryside on horseback. Although he had been trained in the art of courtesy and polite company, he didn't enjoy it. Added to that, I knew he still felt uncomfortable in my presence. In truth, I was barely more comfortable myself. I was absolutely convinced that I'd made a fool of myself, and, in that small act of touch, I had committed a huge indiscretion which could have an enormous impact on both of our lives. If I'd known then what I know now, I wouldn't have concerned myself so deeply with one rogue touch.

The preparations for the feast were going well, and as the day dawned, there was little left to do but check on the cooks and keep the Great Hall in a presentable state. Guy was striding around the castle, barking orders to all and sundry and trying his best to avoid me. I spent most of my time placating upset staff after he'd finished with them.

Eventually, I could stand it no longer. I ensured that my gown was laid out for the evening, and then I tracked Guy down. He was crossing the courtyard, and he looked as if he was heading for the stables.

"My Lord Gisburne!" I called, knowing full well that there were a lot of people around. "If I might have a word with you?"

Guy froze in his tracks, and I visibly saw him have to relax his shoulders and prepare himself to turn around and face me.

"Of course, my Lady de Rainault," he said, turning finally. His features were carefully neutral, and I appreciated his self-control.

I walked towards him. As I approached, I thought frantically for an excuse. "My husband has asked me to choose some wine from the castle cellars for the banquet, and I am unsure which vintage to choose. Would you be so kind as to help me choose a case that he would approve of?" I had no faith that this line of request would work. Sure enough, it didn't.

"My Lady, I am certain that whatever you choose will be satisfactory," Guy replied, looking a little uncomfortable. "If you will excuse, me, I must attend to some preparations of my own for tonight." He bowed low, and walked away.

Damn him! He'd evaded me skilfully and effectively, and I was still in turmoil. I swear by my immortal soul that, even at that point, my intentions were honourable. I only ever intended to apologise for my indiscretion and clear the air, but Guy was obviously not about to take the risk that I might intend otherwise.

I wandered back to the castle and began to prepare for the approaching evening. The guests would begin to arrive soon, and I needed to be able to play my part. Reaching my chamber, I bathed and, with the help of my maid, I dressed. There was nothing else I could do with regard to Guy.

The evening passed amicably enough. I was beginning to settle into my role as hostess, and my husband was far too preoccupied with his guests to worry too much about me. As the feast was finished and the hall was prepared for dancing, I caught sight of Guy for the first time all evening. He'd excused himself from the feasting by returning late from a ride, but de Rainault had obviously requested his presence for the latter part of the evening, as he was brooding in a corner of the room. He looked as though the last thing he wanted to do was dance, but I saw my husband stride purposefully towards him and bark an instruction. Sulkily, he turned to one of the daughters of the grain merchant, a pretty blonde girl of about my age, and asked her to dance as the music started.

She was obviously both nervous and excited to be asked to dance by such a partner, and she nodded a little too enthusiastically for my liking. My husband, sensing perhaps that it was custom for him to dance with his own wife, crossed to me and took my hand formally.

"My Lady de Rainault, would you care to dance?" He asked, all seriousness.

"Of course, my Lord," I replied.

It was a courtly affair, two steps forward, two back, women to cross and change partners. I couldn't help it; my eyes followed Guy around the room. He was as good a dancer as he was a rider, although he obviously didn't enjoy it so much. His young blonde companion whispered something she patently thought to be amusing as she crossed in front of him, and I saw him grimace in an attempt to smile politely. However, he must have sensed me watching him, as, the next moment, he made sure I saw that he brushed a hand over the exposed back of his dancing partner, in a well judged but formal expression of presumed intimacy. I felt my stomach turn.

"Are you well, my dear?" My husband asked me as I crossed him. "You seem to have gone rather pale."

"I'm fine, thank you, Robert," I replied, trying to remember myself. Jealousy was totally irrational, I knew. Guy wasn't mine; he showed no desire to be mine, and I was married to his master. I needed to recover myself, and quickly.

I crossed to change partners, and in a couple more sequences, I ended up next to Guy. He glanced down at me, a mixture of amusement and contempt in his eyes. I was too aware of his presence to let his look go unnoticed.

"Something amuses you, Gisburne?" I asked, deliberately using his second name.

"No, my Lady," he replied, trying to make his voice sound neutral. He moved as close to me as custom would allow. I could hear his breathing, and feel the warmth of his body close to mine. Once more, his proximity distracted me, and I lost my step.

"Be careful, my Lady," Guy replied softly. "This is a complex dance where it is dangerous to lose your footing." He glanced down at me and gave a small smile.

"I am aware of that, Guy," I murmured, half angrily. "But it holds no fear for me."

"Is that so?" He smirked. "Then I shall leave you to your dancing." Our brief partnership was over and we moved on to the next dancers. I was more confused than ever.

So it continued through the night. Guy was evading me, and I grew more and more desperate to speak with him. Eventually, I could stand it no longer. I turned to my husband, who was engaged in conversation with the local linen merchant, and I took my leave.

"Robert, please excuse me-I am feeling a little faint and I would like to take the air on the battlements." It was a flimsy excuse, but it served me well.

Robert looked down at me and gave a small, irritated smile. "Very well, my dear, but be sure you don't catch a chill."

"I'll be sure," I said. I needed some time alone.

As I mounted the steps to the upper regions of the castle, above the Great Hall, I saw a sight that made me stumble. In a dark recess, just out of sight of the hall but in the eye line of anyone who chanced to go up the steps a tall, blond knight was bending over a petite sixteen-year-old maiden, snatching kisses as she gabbled pointlessly. The stab of jealousy nearly doubled me over, and I hurried up the stairs and further up to the battlements, now needing the fresh air more than ever.

The late August breeze gave me little relief when I ascended to the roof of the castle. I felt alternately hot and cold, angry and frustrated, and that was when I knew that I could no longer deny it to myself. I had feelings for Guy of Gisburne.

This couldn't be happening. If I was to act on those feelings, I would risk not just my life but Guy's and the recriminations would affect all who dwelled in Nottingham Castle. However, I was still young, and foolish, and some part of me somewhere remembered what it was to fall in love. I leaned over the lowest part of the battlement wall, and for a moment, I wished that the wind would take me over and send my body crashing to the ground. Anything was preferable to the anguish I felt.

"Have a care, my Lady de Rainault," a deep, rather husky voice said behind me. I jumped.

"Gisburne! What are you doing here?" I asked him, turning to face him.

"The Sheriff asked me to check that you were feeling well," he replied. "He was concerned that you should be out here alone, when the breeze is rising."

"Weren't you a little too preoccupied to run errands for my husband?" I shot back, my jealousy evident in my tone.

"A mere distraction," Guy said, matter-of-factly. "After all, we cannot arouse suspicion."

"Suspicion of what?" I exclaimed. "As if there is anything to worry my husband with!"

Guy looked uncomfortable. "My Lady, I sensed that you wished to discuss something with me. Was I wrong?"

I sighed, and dropped the formalities. "No, Guy," I said quietly. "You were not wrong." Stepping back away from the battlements, I joined him in the slight shadowy recess adjacent to the stairs.

"I know you have been excusing yourself from my presence since that day with the horses, and I wanted to clear the air." His company was again distracting me, and I struggled to keep a clear head about what I had intended to say to him.

"Really?" Guy looked smug, but an instinct told me this was a deception and that really, he was nothing of the kind.

"Yes, you see I…that is…when I touched you…" I was fighting to get the words out in any coherent form.

"Yes, you touched me…" Guy murmured, still a little smug. "Remind me, just how did you touch me?" He drew a little closer to me.

"Wh…when Fury pushed me closer to you…" I stammered.

"Ah yes, damned horse always gets me into trouble," Guy grinned for a moment. "What of it?"

I was determined that I should finish what I'd started. "When I…touched you…it was…it was…"

Very gently, Guy took my hand and touched it to his chest, in exactly the same spot that I had touched him before.

"It was what?" He whispered, all trace of smugness gone from his face and his voice.

I could feel his heart beating under my hand, and I knew that mine was about to explode with fear and desire.

"It was…a…" And that was where words failed me. Slowly, tenderly, Guy bowed his head and brushed his lips over mine. He kissed in a way that was totally contradictory to his brash nature, and I felt my knees buckle as he took me in his arms. I was utterly helpless, and I moved closer to him, running my hands through his hair and needing to feel every inch of him against me. I knew I was trembling, and as he deepened the kiss I felt light headed with relief and desire.

Guy pulled me even closer to him, and his warm, long fingered hands ran up and down my back, caressing my neck and tangling in my hair. For an infinite, passionate moment, we both forgot that I was the wife of the Sheriff and he was his steward; we were simply two people who were caught in a passion that had been building for what felt like an eternity. It was exquisite, sensual, and utterly forbidden.

We eventually broke apart and I was once more able to draw breath. I looked at the man who had kissed me. His face was flushed, as I assumed mine was, and his eyes were two deep pools of darkness. Looking at his full, bruised lips, still slightly parted, I longed to kiss him once again, but a small voice in the back of my mind suggested that this was an unwise course of action. We had risked enough already.

Struggling to regain my composure, I moved away from Guy, who still had his hands clasped around my waist. He, too, stepped back for a moment, watching me.

"So," I asked him shakily.

"My Lady?" He replied, the slightest tremor in his voice.

"Tell me," I said, running a hand through my own hair, trying to tame it a little. "How _am_ I feeling?"


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Once the initial acknowledgement of our feelings had occurred, it was only a matter of time before our emotions took control more fully. Soon after the banquet for the merchants, my husband, thankfully, left the castle on a diplomatic visit to London. In a rare gesture of generosity that I'm sure had rather more to do with catching outlaws than giving me company in his absence, Guy was left in the castle with me, under orders that when de Rainault returned, he wished to see wolfsheads on pikes above the castle gate.

We tried to resist our feelings, please believe me, but love, when it comes is passionate and brutal in equal measure. There was no way we could have stopped what occurred between us. It was early one evening when the inevitable finally happened. I had decided to run the castle on minimal staff during my husband's absence, as my needs were not so lavish as his own. As a result, the cook sent one serving lad with the food for our dinner, and Guy rapidly dismissed him with a barked order. Ever since our encounter on the rooftop, we'd been terrified that something about the way we interacted with one another would give us away, and the pure fear of what Robert would do if he so much as suspected us, was enough to make us keep our distance from one another. However, as soon as Robert left for London, we could no longer keep up the pretence, and I knew, that first night, that there was no going back.

As a lover he varied, according to his mood. Sometimes his desire for me made him brutal, and at other times he was tender and passionate. That first time, he trembled with the anticipation of me. His eyes were wild with the passion that I knew we both felt, and as he kissed me, I wanted to draw him closer, to make him one with me. His elegant fingers undressed me with reverence, removing my long, flowing shift with practised ease, and unbinding my hair so that it draped over my back and shoulders. I tried to undress him too, but he pushed me back onto the bed before swiftly unbuckling his sword belt and ridding himself of his tunic and mail.

Naked he was as glorious as I had imagined. His frame was still gaunt, but he was well muscled and toned. I ran my hands wonderingly over his chest and he shivered under my caress. He was absolute perfection. Broad shoulders tapered to a lean waist, strong hips and of course those long, muscled legs, toned from years of riding horses. There wasn't an ounce of extra flesh anywhere on him, and I couldn't help but contrast his hard, trained body with the only other male body I'd seen; my husband's. De Rainault did not fare well in this comparison.

"Mildred, this is wrong…" he murmured, but it was a token protest. We both knew that the decision had been made long before we got to this point. He captured my lips in another kiss. It was one of the few times in our relationship that I felt we were truly safe.

"I want you so much, Guy," I breathed, pulling him so that he lay on top of me. His body was warm, and I knew that when the moment came, I would be more than ready for him. He ran a shaking hand over my breast, and down the curve of my waist, and his touch enthralled me.

"I've wanted you since the moment I saw you," he murmured. "De Rainault doesn't appreciate the prize he has."

"Please, don't mention Robert," I replied, not wanting anything to distract me from this moment. "It's you I want to see before me, and feel within me."

Guy groaned and captured my mouth in another kiss. Moving a little, I wrapped my leg around him and allowed him inside me. The feeling of his movement within me was like nothing I'd ever felt, and finally, I knew what it was to be loved.

As we both drew closer, I found myself calling his name aloud, which seemed to drive him onward. He was an expert and assured lover, who handled me with as much care and attention as he rode his horses. Thrusting, powerful hips brought me to the edge and sent me over, and as I broke, so did he.

It was much later when we lay calmly, at peace in each other's arms. Guy, perhaps unaccustomed to this part of the love game, lay staring at the canopy over the bed. His expression was unreadable.

"What are you thinking?" I asked him quietly.

"I'll be hanged if de Rainault finds out." He said simply, quietly.

"No you won't," I replied. "You're a good steward-but wives are replaceable." I propped myself up on one elbow and looked down at him.

"You haven't known him as long as I have," Guy replied. "He'd hang a man for stealing a ewe, leave alone the woman he's married to."

"You stole me a long time ago," I said softly. "When I saw you treating Fury's leg."

Guy looked at me quizzically. "You saw me?"

"Yes," I continued. "But you didn't see me. Fury did though."

Guy had the good grace to blush a little. "Damned horse. He could have given me a clue." He sat up in the bed, and turned as if to get up. It was then that I noticed the red weals across his back. I drew in an involuntary breath.

"Guy, who did this to you?" I asked him. As I did so, his expression actually closed off before my eyes.

"An old injury," he replied, not quite meeting my eyes.

"I don't believe you," I countered. "Those scars are too fresh. It was Robert, wasn't it?" I turned him back to face me. "Tell me the truth, Guy!"

Guy said nothing, but his eyes betrayed him. I knew I was right, and it didn't take long to fill in the gaps.

"It was when we were ambushed by the outlaws wasn't it?" I persisted. "Did he do it himself?"

Guy laughed then, a harsh, bitter sound that jarred me. "Do you honestly think he'd do his own dirty work? He's got me for that. And when I do something that displeases him, he gets his guards to do it." He looked at me defiantly. "And you don't think he'd hang me for this?" He made a gesture towards the bed.

I caught hold of his hand. "So that was why you were absent from the table for so long back in the spring? He was having this done to you." It wasn't a question, and I didn't expect an answer. Wriggling round behind him, I traced the line of one of the red scars with the tips of my fingers. "You endured that because of me."

I felt Guy flinch at the gentle touch, and I dropped a kiss on his back. "This will never happen to you again, I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Guy said gruffly, and then laughed again, without humour. "Your husband, for all of his faults, is a supremely clever man, and if he so chooses, he will make our lives as difficult as he desires."

"That's why he mustn't know," I murmured, sliding around to face Guy once more. I moved into his embrace, and in a swift moment of tenderness, he wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head. Nothing, not even the distant memory of my first love, could compare with the emotions of that moment.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Once we had taken that first step and consummated our love, it was only a matter of time before the inevitable happened. I found myself with child. Fortunately, distasteful though it was becoming to me, since his return from London, Robert had been coming to my chambers again recently. The problem was that every time he touched me, I couldn't help comparing his ageing, flabby body to the body of my new lover, and as a result our unions were becoming more and more unsatisfactory. I was also fairly certain, because of his last failed attempt to sire an heir, that de Rainault was incapable of fathering children. However, my husband was preoccupied with the outcome of his visit to London, and so he didn't seem to notice any difference in me.

It was easy then, to pass off the child I was carrying as de Rainault's. As the months progressed, and I began to show some evidence of my burden, both of the men in my life were overjoyed. De Rainault began to lavish attention on me, convinced that this was to be his "son and heir, I think we'll call him Robert," and Guy was secretly delighted, knowing that the child was his. In our snatched moments together, he would place a hand on my stomach and smile a secret, almost timid smile.

The knowledge that he was to be a father seemed to thaw something in Guy. He was still irritable, and I knew, even if I chose not to find out the full details, that he was still cruel to those he considered to be below him. I know that his battles with the outlaws were still bloody, fierce and maddening, and that he was responsible for the deaths of many. My love was not an all-redeeming force for him, but the subtle ways in which he changed were noticeable, if only to me.

For instance, he seemed to grow more tolerant of the younger servants in the castle, and less likely to hit out at them, as he had been wont to do before. He also argued less with my husband, a sign that he knew truly that he was in a superior position. I never stopped to wonder, until now, whether or not Guy took a secret pleasure in the fact that he was bedding his master's wife. I suppose he must have done, to be truthful, for status and position were very important to him, and Guy, in one sense, was committing the ultimate subversive act. However, I knew also that he loved me, and that was something I could never accuse my husband of, even though he made sure I was always provided for.

It couldn't last, and the way in which it changed was brutal and devastating for all three of us, myself, my husband and my lover. There was nothing that could have been done to prevent what happened, it was the capricious wish of the fates that caused the tragedy, but there was no doubt that it had a huge impact on all at Nottingham Castle.

My husband had recently taken to having me with him once more on the visits to the villages and hamlets under his jurisdiction. I think it was partly a desire to show his blossoming young wife off to as many people as possible, but he had also noticed that I was quite a popular figure among the village folk. Of course, he didn't completely understand why, but he perhaps wished to bask in some of that popularity in an attempt to bolster his own flagging reputation. The fact that I was beginning to show obvious signs of being with child was an added bonus for him.

On this particular day, in early November, I had accompanied my husband out to Edwinstowe, a small settlement north of Nottingham. He had heard rumours that it was becoming the new Wickham as far as involvement with the outlaws was concerned, and he wished to re-establish his power and authority over the settlement by visiting it and bestowing a little generosity on it. He had set out with me, and several bags of grain (these had been taken from another settlement west of the city, so in effect his generosity was false, but the Edwinstowe villagers weren't to know that) as a gift to help the villagers through the approaching winter. I did make sure, eventually, that the village from where the grain was stolen was compensated for their loss.

This was a new tactic for my husband, and I liked to think that his brutality towards the people was becoming more dilute as a response to my own influence on him, but, as you can see, the gesture was still double edged. Anyway, we set out towards Edwinstowe and before long we had to cross the eastern third of Sherwood Forest. The day was calm, and the late autumn sunlight dappled the ground and made the forest look exquisite. I was taken by its beauty, but Robert wasn't in the mood for my conversation, and merely grunted in reply. Guy wasn't with us-the Sheriff didn't feel that, as his steward had had such a hand in causing devastation to Edwinstowe and other villages, his presence on this particular mission of "generosity" would be entirely appropriate. Guy had been about to protest, he was becoming increasingly protective of our unborn child and me, but I had caught his eye just in time and he merely scowled. It was more important to me now than ever that our secret was kept, and we couldn't afford any mistakes.

About a mile from Edwinstowe, just as we were nearing the southernmost reach of the forest, disaster struck. The outlaws attacked our party. This time, there were more than just the two that I knew from before; there was a dark haired man, and, to my shock and surprise, a beautiful auburn haired woman. To the left of them stood an exotic looking warrior and a younger man.

"Good afternoon, Sheriff, my Lady de Rainault," the dark haired man spoke. He had a musical voice, and I sensed that he didn't really wish to harm us. However, I also sensed that he wouldn't hesitate to do just that if he needed to.

"Scum!" My husband exclaimed. "Let us pass."

The dark haired man assumed a mock wounded expression. "Did you hear that John? The Sheriff called us scum."

"Talk about the pot calling the kettle," the big bear man responded. "Do you think I should teach him to mind his manners, Robin?" John shifted his staff a little in his large hands.

Ah, I thought, so this was Robin Hood. I straightened a little in the saddle. That meant that the woman with them must be the Lady Marion of Leaford, his Pagan bride. It was the first time I'd encountered the outlaws since Guy's unfortunate beating at Scarlett and John's hands. It made me nervous, but it was an intriguing situation.

"And where might you be going with that grain, my lord?" Scarlett spat each word from his mouth as if they were some offending bitter fruit.

"To Edwinstowe," my husband replied. "Not that it's any of your concern."

Robin looked quizzically at my husband. "Don't you have enough there, without robbing the people of Edwinstowe as well?" He asked.

"Fool!" Robert replied. "I intend no such thing. This grain is a gift for the scu-people of Edwinstowe."

"Really?" John countered. "Well why don't we do you a favour and take the grain to the village ourselves?" He stepped a little closer to the wagon.

"That won't be necessary," my husband said. "Now let us pass."

Robin looked at his men and a message seemed to pass between them. "If you are sincere in your wish to deliver the grain to Edwinstowe, then surely you'll have no objection if we accompany you?" He said amiably.

"And be seen in the company of wolfsheads? I think not!" Robert spat back. It was an error of judgement that would cost him dear.

"Very well," Robin countered. "Will, John, Much, take the cart." Robin's men did as they were bid.

"It's not that I don't trust you," Robin said to my apoplectic husband, "but it's important to make sure the grain goes where it's intended, don't you agree?"

Robert was not to be beaten that easily. As soon as Robin cam within striking distance, he drew his sword and attempted to draw Robin into combat.

What happened next is very hazy and indistinct to my mind. There was a melee, during which time many of our men were killed, and the outlaws took the grain. It was a poor judgement on Robin Hood's part not to believe us, and an even poorer one on my husband's part to cause a battle over it. Swords flashed, horses reared, and in the confusion, the mount I was on shied and fell. I remember the sensation of falling, and the horse tumbling onto me in its own fear. Irrationally, I also remember thinking that Rosa wouldn't have responded quite to erratically to the confusion.

My screams, and the blood that seeped through my dress were enough to halt the fighting. My husband, who, by this time had dismounted and was parrying with Robin Hood, paused, dropped his sword and dashed over to where I lay.

"Guards!" He shouted to the few remaining soldiers we had. "Move this bloody horse, quickly!"

The outlaws, stunned by this development, ran to my aid, and John pulled the horse by its reins to its feet. I looked down at my lower body, and I knew that the baby I was carrying was dead.

"You wolfshead scum!" Robert cried, genuinely horrified by my condition. "If she dies, I will hunt each and every one of you until you are all dead!" In a gesture of absolute tenderness, he took me in his arms, and somehow mounted his horse. He cradled me to his chest all the way back to Nottingham, where I was seen by the best doctors in the city. The last thing I remember of the outlaws was their look of utter horror and disbelief.


	10. Chpater 10

Chapter 10

The child was dead, and with it, some of my hope. I lay in my chamber for weeks afterwards, listless, mourning the one thing that might have assured my escape from my husband. The two men in my life were equally grief stricken, but they expressed it in entirely different ways. Robert drank himself into a stupor every night, cursed the wolfsheads and burned down more villages. Guy became a shadow of his former self.

It was odd really, how they both dealt with their grief. I had expected Guy to rant and rail, to be angry beyond belief at the injustice, but it was as if his feelings had been cut off; the very emotions that I had awoken in him were now as remote as they ever had been. It worried me, in the moments when I wasn't focussed on my own grief.

There was no doubt that something changed in Nottingham Castle that autumn. The life, and the hope had vanished. I needed Guy more than ever, but he seemed to be keeping his distance from me, at a time when just one word, one touch would have reassured me that he still loved me. As the days drifted on, my insecurities grew, and I found myself wondering if he blamed me for losing our child.

Eventually, I could bear it no longer. The doctor had said that I should remain in bed for at least another week, but I was growing restless, and I needed two things more urgently; fresh air and reassurance. Slowly, each movement still causing me discomfort, I got out of bed. In a way I had been lucky-the horse could have crushed my pelvis, or my legs, but my bones were undamaged. I sustained some heavy bruising alongside the more terrible injury of losing the child, but eventually I would be grateful that I had sustained no internal injuries.

It took me a long time to dress myself. I had sent my maid away a few days ago, believing that I would be bedridden for some time and not wishing to keep her on for no reason. As a result, I simply threw on the loosest dress I could find and I quickly bound my hair back in a plait. Grabbing a shawl from my dresser, I walked from my chamber. I knew that I was unlikely to see anyone, as my husband was sleeping late after yet another night of heavy drinking and I assumed Guy was out in the countryside. He had been absent from the castle a lot lately. I assumed he was seeking vengeance on those who had a part in the loss of our child. I myself bore little ill will towards the outlaws, for they had helped me when I had fallen. My faith had always taught me to forgive, and while the pain of my loss cut deep, I blamed no single party for it.

Slowly, I wandered down the steps from my chamber, past the Great Hall and out into the courtyard. The late autumn breeze made me shiver, but the sunlight still held enough warmth to keep me fairly comfortable in my dress. I pulled the shawl a little tighter around myself and began to walk across the courtyard to the stables.

Rosa was beginning to show signs of being with foal, and I surmised that she was about four months gone, the encounter with Fury being in late July and it now being the end of November. She had always been a rounded horse, but the foal in her belly was beginning to show. Guy had grumbled at the time about having to bring her in and the fact that I had to stop riding her, as it made our treks less amiable-Fury wanted his little companion by his side as often as possible, and had bemoaned their separation loudly when this could no longer be the case. However, it was only fair that she be taken care of in her condition. In six months there would be a new addition to the stables.

I blinked back sudden tears as I drew closer to Rosa, and she looked up, sensing my emotion. Wiping my eyes, I wordlessly moved alongside her and gave her a pat. She nuzzled my cheek in silent sympathy and her warm breath stopped the slight shiver that I was developing. The stables were cooler without the sun's warmth.

Leaning a little against Rosa, I started when I heard a muffled sound. It seemed to be coming from the back of the stables. I didn't wish to be observed out of doors-after all, it was common knowledge that I shouldn't even be out of bed yet, but I was curious about who was in the stables with me. Assuming it was one of the stable hands checking on the horses, I stayed silent, not wishing to alert him or her to my presence, but I turned in the direction of the sound, and had to draw in a sharp breath, for my heart broke at the sight.

Far from being out on a raid, Guy was in the stable, grooming Fury once more. He had one hand on the horse's back, and the brush was in his left hand, but the grooming seemed once again to be more of a gesture of comfort than actual necessity. He looked so thin and pale, a shadow of his former self. His hair hung limply and even his tunic seemed to fall shapelessly from his shoulders. Fury had his head turned towards his master, a look of concern on his dark face. As Guy turned to brush the back end of the horse, I could see why. The shaft of sunlight that shone directly into Fury's stall caught Guy in profile, and I could see that his angular face was wet with tears. The sound of his muffled sobbing was what had drawn my attention to him in the first place, I now realised.

I was torn between wanting to run to him and comfort him, and the fear of what his reaction might be if I did so. This was a side of his grief that he obviously didn't want to share with me, and to intrude upon it might provoke anger and recriminations. But how could I merely stand by and watch the man I loved grieve like this? A decision had to be made, and I knew suddenly what it had to be. If I pretended to enter the stables again, and I acted as though I hadn't seen him, I could make enough noise that Guy would have time to compose himself before addressing me. That way, he could save face and I would avoid the possibility of humiliating him by intruding on his tears.

As quickly as I could, I crept back to the stable door and then, making my steps as heavy as possible, I started to walk towards Rosa once more. "Hello Rosa," I said, a fraction too loudly. "I thought I'd come and see how you are." I ruffled the horse's mane. She looked a little confused, but she accepted the caress.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Guy's head snap up, and he ran a hand over his face. He turned in the direction of my voice and gave a wan smile.

"Mildred," he said, with the barest tremor in his voice. "What are you doing out of your chamber? The doctor said that you should have bed rest for at least another week." He strode towards me, and, to give him credit, all traces of his grief, except for slightly reddened eyes, had vanished.

"I wanted some fresh air, and to see how Rosa is doing," I replied, weak with relief that my little deception had worked. "There's only so long you can spend looking at the canopy above your bed."

There was a pause. No amount of words could have filled that moment between us. Guy tilted his head and looked down at me, and I looked sadly into his eyes. We both knew what we had lost, and there was no language that could have quantified that. Slowly he drew me to him, and held me for a moment against his chest. I realised that my impressions had been right-he was barely more substantial than a ghost and my arms wrapped right around him. I could feel his ribs sticking through his tunic, and his whole body trembling. As I chanced a glance upwards, I could see him biting down hard on his lower lip, trying to keep control of himself. I wished he wouldn't, but his tears were something I was not meant to see.

Eventually, he drew back from me, and his voice was steady. "You should go back to the castle," he said. "It's getting cold." In a tender, uncharacteristic gesture, he took the ends of my shawl and wrapped them tighter around me. "Your husband will yell the place down if he finds you out of bed without a chaperone."

"Let him," I replied. "It'll be the first time he's noticed me in weeks." The bitterness in my voice surprised me, and I forced a smile. "Besides, you're chaperoning me."

Guy shook his head sadly and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. "Even so, you should be inside." He offered me his right arm. "I suppose we should be seen to do this the proper way."

We walked across the courtyard together, the picture of courtly decorum. No one who saw us would have guessed what a devastating bond we shared.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The New Year celebrations at Nottingham Castle were a good excuse for a little levity. I was gradually recovering my health, and my husband had stopped drinking so much and was returning to his duties. Even Guy chanced the odd visit to my chamber to see me, when he was sure de Rainault was otherwise engaged, although the fragile state of my physical health at the beginning of December meant that these visits were strictly conversational. Even though he was still thin, he seemed to draw strength from the fact that I was getting better, and we began to try to look to the future.

We often spoke of running away, of leaving the castle and settling far away from here, but I think even then we both knew it would have been impossible. I was legally bound to de Rainault, and the only escape from this bond was death, his or mine. Much as I tried, I could not wish for my husband's death; I did not hate him. I didn't like him a great deal, but that didn't mean I wished him dead. Guy himself was dependent on the Sheriff for his income, and a disgraced knight would find little employment elsewhere. For the moment, we resigned ourselves to secrecy.

The winter was a harsh one, and I was glad that I was regaining my strength enough to face it. For Nottingham Castle, the New Year period was one long round of banquets and parties, and I found that I was enjoying the season, although I did plead tiredness to my husband on a few occasions over the festive season. Most of the time, this tiredness was genuine, but I wanted the first man to touch me after my recovery to be Guy, and so I perhaps, for my sins, used the excuse rather too regularly. De Rainault didn't seem to mind too much-he was not a man who naturally understood the complexities of women, and the fact that he didn't have to copulate and then converse with me afterwards came, I suspect, as somewhat of a relief.

It was during the quieter moments of one of the banquets that I decided the time had come for Guy and I to become reacquainted with one another, and it needed to happen soon. I missed him terribly, even though I saw him every day. My husband was preoccupied with one of the local gentry, and I watched with some amusement his rather over solicitous attentions to the Baron's wife, before I made my excuses and left the table. My husband waved me away unconcernedly, and I wandered up the stairs to my chambers. It was past midnight anyway, and I knew that de Rainault would not disturb me tonight. He'd had far too much wine to even consider it.

I undressed and slipped into my white cotton nightgown. Then, I unbraided my hair and removed what was left of my jewellery. It had been a long night. Looking at myself in the mirror, eight weeks on from the fall, I now bore very little physical evidence of the trauma I'd been through, and the bruises had nearly all faded. The emotional scars still ran deep, and more vividly, but they too were beginning, slowly, to heal.

Some little time later, I heard a gentle knock at my chamber door. Assuming it was my maid, I called for her to come in. As the door opened, I saw the slightly amused face of my lover, unruly hair and all, and I had to stifle a giggle.

"What happened to Margaret?" I asked him, as, looking quickly behind him to ensure he wasn't being observed, he closed the door.

"I sent her away for the night," Guy replied. "Damned woman wouldn't leave at once though-she's far too concerned that you might still be unwell." He grimaced. "I had to virtually carry her away from here."

I laughed. "Well, she's nothing if not motherly."

A shadow of sadness fell across Guy's face and I realised I'd said the wrong thing. Quickly, I reached for my hairbrush and handed it to him. "If Margaret's been dismissed for the night, you might as well make yourself useful," I teased, lightening the mood once more. "One hundred strokes each side should do it."

"As if I don't spend enough time grooming Fury," Guy grumbled. "Now I have to brush you too?" He walked around behind me and gathered my long dark hair up with one hand. I felt his warm fingers caressing the back of my neck as he brushed through my hair. The gesture was incredibly sensual, and I leaned into his caress. Dropping the brush on the floor, sensing that passion was stirring within me, Guy leaned over and kissed me. His mouth tasted sweet from the wine he had been drinking, and I began to ache for him in a way that I hadn't felt for months. Deepening the kiss, he gathered me up in his arms and took me to the bed.

"I've missed you," I murmured between kisses. "You've no idea how much I've missed you."

"And I you," he replied. "It's been so long." He broke the kiss to unbuckle his sword belt. "Are you sure it's safe?"

"My husband's perfectly preoccupied with the bosom of the Baron's wife!" I giggled again. "We don't need to worry about him for a while."

From that moment on it was pure ecstasy. This was not the abandoned lovemaking of our past; we had both been through too much hurt over the past few months for that, but it was a tender expression of everything we had come to mean to each other. We were both stronger, and yet more vulnerable, because of the experiences of the autumn.

Guy slipped my nightgown over my head and hesitated for a moment. There was still a little bruising from the accident around my waist and on my thighs but it would not affect my pleasure.

"It's alright, Guy," I said softly. "I promise I won't break." I sat up in bed a little and made to lift his tunic over his head. He wriggled out of it, and I noticed with relief that he'd regained a little weight. He was still thin, but he no longer looked like a ghost. For a long moment we just gazed at each other's bodies, relishing what we had been denied for so long. I gently ran my hand over his chest, tracing the fine line of blonde hair that ran downwards across his stomach and further. I was flattered to see him respond most intimately to this gentle caress and my hand lingered for a moment on his growing manhood.

The gentle, teasing motion was enough for Guy to take control. With a moan, he pulled me towards him and rolled over onto his back, so that I was on top of him. I was glad he did this, as I was still slightly tender and I didn't know if I could take his weight if he chose to have me beneath him.

I was more than ready for him, and if I had the briefest doubt that I wasn't, it vanished the moment he moved inside me. I looked down at his face and I relished the fact that his eyes were closed in pure enjoyment of the sensation of our bodies' union. His large, long fingered hands gently held my hips and rocked me back and forth until I felt my own pleasure build and burst over me from the pit of my stomach. Sensing this release, Guy moved with me and I rode his movements until his own climax broke. He moaned a little too loudly and I placed a hand over his mouth by way of warning. He kissed my palm and I saw his eyes crinkle at the edges in a mischievous smile.

Slowly, regretting the fact that I had to move, I rolled away from him and we lay beside one another, still basking in our closeness.

"It's been too long," I murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from Guy's eyes. "Let it not be so long next time."

Guy took my hand again and kissed my fingers. It was a rare, tender gesture and I appreciated it. "It won't be." His eyes were two pools of deepest blue, and at that moment I felt truly safe.

The safety was fleeting. There was a knock at the door of my chamber.

"Yes?" I called out, turning panicky eyes on Guy, who looked equally frantic. Quickly, he scrambled out of the bed and crawled beneath it.

"It's Robert." The voice was quiet; humble even, much unlike his usual strident bark.

I paused, kicked Guy's tunic under the bed and readjusted the sheets to cover myself a little more decently. There was no time to put my nightgown on.

"Come in," I called, hoping my voice didn't tremble.

The door opened and Robert walked into my chamber. He sat down on the edge of my bed and, to my surprise, he looked vaguely nervous.

"I was just about to go to sleep," I said. I pointed to my nightgown, and, feeling rather guilty for slighting my maid, I said. "Margaret didn't bring me fresh linen before she left." I hoped this would prove an adequate excuse for my nakedness under the sheets.

"I won't keep you," Robert replied. He cleared his throat nervously. "Mildred, when you came here, I knew that you could never love me. I never expected you to." He shifted around to face me on the bed. I said nothing, sensing that he wanted to continue.

"But I want you to know that since you've been here at Nottingham, you have brought more joy to my life than I ever could have hoped for." His eyes searched my face, looking for some sense of what I was thinking. "When you lost our child, I wished there was something I could do, but I knew that there was not. I am not a loving man, Mildred, you know that as well as anyone, but I wanted you to know that you do mean something to me. You are not just an inconvenience." As if he knew he'd said too much, he looked away, embarrassed.

"Thank you, Robert," I said softly. "That means a great deal to me." I accepted a kiss on the forehead from him as he stood.

Turning slightly, before he got to the door of my chamber, he looked back at me. "Goodnight, wife," he said.

"Goodnight…Robert." I replied. I couldn't bring myself to call him husband, and it wasn't just the fact that Guy was hiding under the bed. Robert was sincere, I knew, and I couldn't meet his honesty with lies.

As he left, Guy scrambled out from under the bed. I giggled, as much to release the tension as at the sight of him, as his hair was covered in cobwebs.

"How dare he refer to you as wife?" He growled, shaking his head. "And to our child? The man's in a dream world!" He sat down heavily on the bed and shrugged on his tunic.

"Hush Guy," I said. "He's been grieving too." I put out a hand and touched Guy's face. "Try to keep calm. Remember, we can only be together if he doesn't know."

"I know," Guy still looked mildly petulant. "I just wish that I had had the means, a year ago, to take you as my wife and not have had to share you with him."

"I would have hated you for it," I replied. "A year ago all you were to me was the arrogant lackey of a hateful man. If you had made me your wife then, I would have taken my own life." My honesty was brutal, but I squeezed his hand to soften the blow, as Guy looked momentarily angry.

"It's only now, over time, that I realise how much you mean to me. But no matter how much that is, we must keep our secret for now. For both of our sakes." I moved my hand to his cheek, and raised his eyes to look at me. Looking back at me were the eyes of a vulnerable man, a look I didn't see very often.

Guy nodded. "I know. It's getting harder and harder to keep this secret, especially when he touches you, but it must be kept. For now." He kissed me gently, reverently, on the lips and held me close for a moment. Then, with an air of sadness that he had to leave, he stood and walked to the door.

"Goodnight…love," he said, a trace of irony in his voice.

"Goodnight…love," I repeated back to him. And I meant it. He was my love, for always. It didn't matter what the church or the state said; our hearts knew it to be true.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Winter turned to spring and with it Guy and I continued to fall deeper in love. My husband didn't suspect a thing-we were entirely discreet, and I continued to play my roles as de Rainault's wife and Gisburne's lover entirely independently of one another. As the weather warmed, Guy and I talked more of escape; the prospect of one day being together without the secrecy cheered us, gave us hope when we were feeling the constraints of our situation. I think I always knew that in actuality, escape was impossible, but the dream kept us warm.

Soon I fell pregnant again, and both of the men in my life were delighted. However, it didn't take long for Guy to tire of de Rainault's smug proclamations about his own virility. I was foolish to assume that he would be happy, in the long term with the impossibility of our situation. On one of our snatched afternoons together, he finally broached the subject.

My husband had banned me from riding when he found out that I was with child, which meant that Guy and I no longer had an excuse to get away from the castle and into the countryside. We were relegated to walking the outskirts of the estate, and soon it was clear that we needed to discuss our future in more concrete terms.

The wild garlic was beginning to flower under the canopy of trees, and its heady scent permeated the air as we walked. Primroses added a splash of vibrant colour to the pathways and other wild flowers added their light scent to the air. Eventually, Guy motioned for me to stop, and we sat beneath one of the larger oak trees.

"This can't go on," he said, without a trace of preamble. "De Rainault has to know that you're carrying my child." He brushed a stray lock of hair from his eyes and took my hand.

"I know," I sighed. "I can't bear it much longer, but what can we do?" I squeezed his hand in a gesture of support. "If Robert finds out about us, he'll hang me and goodness only knows what he'll do to you. There's no escape from this situation." I looked away from him for a moment. "You know that if word of this gets out, you'll be disgraced and we'll have nothing."

"I'm willing to take that chance," Guy insisted. "I don't care any more about the consequences. We lost one child, Mildred, we can't lose another." He ran a weary hand over his eyes and looked back at me. "This is more important than de Rainault's perceived pride. We must find a solution."

"But what solution?" I retorted. "My father won't help us, and I have no other family. Even if I did, there's not way they'd shelter me now that I'm with child by a man who isn't my husband."

Guy looked thoughtful. "Perhaps there is a way," he said. "It's a risk, but I'm willing to take it if you are."

My heart leapt with a little hope, even though I knew that it might be hopeless. "What do you mean?"

"I have relatives in Normandy," Guy said. "A cousin and his wife. If we could somehow get you out of the country, then perhaps, at some later date, I could join you, when the scandal has died down." He looked momentarily elated. "I don't know why I didn't think of it before! It might just be the solution." Ecstatically, he kissed me. "De Rainault won't like it, but I'm sure between us we can fabricate some story-say you've got to visit a sick relative or something, and then as soon as I know you're safe across the water, I can break the news to your husband that your ship sank-he'll think you're dead, and I can join you in time."

"But Robert will be devastated," I said guiltily. "I can't live with the fact that he'll think I'm dead. Surely there's a better explanation that will cause him less pain?" I moved in closer to Guy and gently touched the back of his neck. "Never forget that I love you, but I cannot, in good conscience, cause Robert any more pain."

"He doesn't love you!" Guy retorted. "You yourself have admitted that he only married you for the dowry, why can't you see that he doesn't matter?" He pulled away from my touch, and hurt, I dropped my hand.

"No, Guy," I replied quietly. "He's fond of me, even if he doesn't love me, and I can't, in all conscience, involve myself in a plan that will cause him more pain than absolutely necessary."

"So what do you propose?" Guy said, his voice still raised. "That we walk straight in on your husband and tell him that it's my child you're carrying and not his? Gods Mildred, what's that going to do if not cause him pain?" He stood up abruptly.

"Guy!" I exclaimed, standing up. I was fearful that if he kept raising his voice we'd attract eavesdroppers.

He looked down at me, and the expression in my eyes mollified him somewhat. Leaning over, he kissed me gently. "I'm sorry, it's just that I want to scream our joy to the rafters and not have to keep worrying about looking over our shoulders every few moments."

"I know," I replied. "And we will find a way to solve this, I promise."

Little did I know, as I said that, whether I liked it or not, the choice was very soon going to be taken out of my hands.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

The spring was unseasonably warm, and as April turned into May, and my pregnancy was progressing well and safely, I began to grow more and more restless. There had been a great deal of excitement in the castle over the past week, as my husband claimed to have killed Robin Hood. According to Robert, his men had loosed a number of crossbow bolts into the outlaw after they had cornered him on the top of Ranulph's Tor. The body had been so destroyed by the attack that they had left it out on the hill to rot, rather than bringing it back to Nottingham as a trophy.

I felt sorry for the loss of the outlaw. While he was the enemy of the establishment that I was so much a part and product of, I had secretly shared many of Robin Hood's ideals about how the people in my husband's jurisdiction should be treated, so the death of a man who had seemed to hold so much of the peasants' fate in his hands was deeply saddening. Of course, I couldn't speak of this to Robert-he would have had me whipped for such talk.

My husband's claim to have killed the Wolfshead also seemed a little shaky, for shortly after Robin's alleged death, a second hooded man rescued the outlaws and attacked the camp where my husband's men were celebrating. Robert remained insistent that he had seen the first man fall, despite the fact that he saw the second hooded man with his own eyes. He was in an unpredictable mood that week-jovial one moment, convinced that he'd killed the outlaw leader, and then moody and withdrawn when he contemplated the possibility of another Robin Hood.

Guy wasn't convinced at all. He hadn't seen Robin Hood's death, and, as he'd told me in our snatched conversations, he knew it wasn't over. He'd been nursing a wounded arm since the attack, as the second hooded man had injured him. It was a flesh wound, but it made him even more irritable as he was finding that it encumbered his duties. I also never spoke of my thoughts about Robin Hood to Guy-he, I knew, did not share my interest in the peasants and serfs of the county. I liked to think that our love, illicit as it was, gave Guy a little redemption, but there were still some things he did, especially in relation to his duties as steward, that I could not condone. It would have been foolish of me to have attempted to change his outlook on, say, the wolfsheads in the forest; he was a servant of the Crown, and would never be anything other.

One thing was certain though, things had gone a little quiet in Sherwood Forest of late. This was not a good thing for Guy and I as it meant that Robert was unfocussed, his primary objective being, to his mind, possibly temporarily achieved. The time he would have spent forming plans was now spent brooding in the castle, and, worse from my point of view, making plans for the birth of 'his son'. How he knew the child was male I had no idea, for I myself was certain that the child was a girl, but I was forced to go along with his enthusiasm for the moment.

It couldn't last. I had lived with the fact that the man I loved was moody and hot headed, and Robert's attention to me was enough to tip Guy over the edge. He was an angry, malevolent presence whenever the three of us were together, and it was getting harder and harder to persuade him to keep silent. I was already nearly five months pregnant by this time, and as my pregnancy progressed, I knew that time was running out and Guy could only stay silent a little longer. There was no way he'd tolerate Robert crowing and cackling over a child he knew to be his.

One evening in late May, de Rainault took his barbs too far. We were halfway through dinner, and Guy, as was more and more his custom, ate little and said virtually nothing. It had been a very hot day, and I myself was feeling the heat. I felt tired, and was desperate to escape from the table to my chamber for some much needed rest.

Robert was the first to break the uneasy silence between the three of us. "What's the matter, Gisburne?" he said, "Cat got your tongue?" He threw an apple onto Guy's plate, narrowly missing upsetting Guy's goblet of wine. Guy stayed silent, but I could see his hand clench convulsively around the stem of the goblet as he reached for it.

"Well, answer me, man!" Robert persisted. He was goading Guy, as was his custom, but he didn't seem to realise that this time his barbs were going deeper than usual. Guy's tolerance for de Rainault stemmed mostly from the fact that he was his employer, but of late this tolerance was waning dangerously.

I tried to catch Guy's eye, in an attempt to tell him to keep his temper, but he had bowed his head. Guy's face had gone pale with suppressed rage and his fists were clenched tightly, the knuckles white in his attempt to keep control. The very paleness of his cheeks suggested that he was past the point of keeping calm. Usually he had a high colour when he was aggrieved-the whiteness of his face made me fear the consequences of his rage. Those large, long fingered hands that were capable of such tenderness now looked like weapons of pure aggression.

After a moment, Guy raised his eyes to meet de Rainault's. From across the table I could see the darkness in Guy's gaze. "I don't answer to you," Guy replied, in a low, angry voice.

"Oh really?" Robert said mockingly. "And who do you answer to these days, Gisburne? Perhaps you could enlighten me?" He put his knife down on the table

"I think you'd better ask your wife," Guy replied, his voice barely audible in the echoing vastness of the Great Hall.

There was silence. Robert looked quizzically at me. "Well, Mildred? Do you know what this fool is babbling about?" He gave me a brief, condescending smile, but I couldn't meet his complacent gaze.

The colour must have drained from my own face in that moment, and all of a sudden I felt faint. The goblet of wine I was holding slipped to the floor, and I leaned on my now free hand, my head spinning with fear and dread.

"Well?" De Rainault demanded, a little more aggressively. "Is someone going to tell me?" He placed his own cup of wine down on the table and gazed from Guy to myself and back again. The expression on his face was one I had seen many times; his eyes widened and his jaw clenched rigid. In that moment, I knew that de Rainault had guessed all.

I tried to rise from the table, but I was prevented by Robert screaming "Sit down!" His face was the picture of rage, his eyes wild with the knowledge of the betrayal he'd suffered. Guy and I didn't have to say a thing more-it was written all over our faces.

At that point, Guy remembered himself. "My lord Sheriff," he stuttered, trying to take control of the situation. "If I might presume to suggest that Lady de Rainault retires-she's looking a little weary."

"And what's it to you if she is, Gisburne?" De Rainault spat, turning to his steward. He jumped out of his seat and paced towards Guy. As I tried to move to intercept him, he threw his goblet back down onto the table. "Stay seated!" He roared at me.

There was another long silence while my husband digested this new turn of events. "How long?" He murmured. When we didn't reply, he tried again. "I said, how long?"

"Since last summer," I replied quietly, hoping that, by giving him the information he wanted, it would make some difference. What a fool I was. I should never have admitted anything.

The look in Robert's eyes at that moment cut through me like a sword. He seemed to shrink in on himself, but the rage in his face threatened to overwhelm him.

"Get to your chamber," he said to me. "Before I have you killed." I hesitated, and looked over at Guy for an idea of what he wanted me to do.

Guy was absolutely still, his hand still clenched tightly. His face was beginning to regain some of its colour, and I knew from the expression on his face that he was both terrified and angered by this turn of events. I wished fervently that his blue eyes would meet my own for a moment, so that I would know what to do, but it wasn't to be.

"Do I need to have you whipped, woman? I said leave!" Robert was shouting again, and for a moment longer, I looked at Guy. To my great relief, he nodded almost imperceptibly. I took my leave, but not before a cold hand of fear gripped my heart. I genuinely feared that Robert was going to kill Guy, and if he did, I would take my own life, damnation or no.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

I hurried up the staircase from the Great Hall and hid for a moment in the shadowy recess at the top of the stairs. From this vantage point I could see the dinner table and my husband, who had seated himself once more. On each side of the hall there were two of Robert's personal guard. These were the only soldiers who were not under Guy's direct command-they answered solely to my husband. I began to tremble as I realised that they would probably have some part to play in the events of the rest of the night.

Robert's screams echoed through the Great Hall for some time. I was so afraid for Guy; after all, Robert had had him whipped for the outlaw attack-I dreaded to think what he'd do to him for this unforgivable transgression. I couldn't hear Guy's voice at first, and I still couldn't see him; I was afraid he was already dead.

I didn't dare move from my hiding place. I was terrified that if Robert saw me, his vengeance would be swift. However, I couldn't merely stand and watch. As silently as I could, desperate to see what Robert had in store for Guy, I moved very slowly, so as not to attract the attention of the guard I could see positioned at the top of the Great Hall staircase. I tiptoed over to the part of the balustrade that was in shadow.

"You've done some bloody stupid things in your time, Gisburne," I could hear Robert's voice, still trembling with rage, echoing around the Great Hall. "But this time you are going to pay."

I still couldn't see where Guy was, so I leaned further over the balustrade, trying to catch a glimpse of him. It was then that I heard, and saw, Guy move. The crash of his chair against the floor alerted me, and the next thing I saw was Guy, sword drawn, throwing himself towards de Rainault. Anger had taken him over, and in his rage he had decided that de Rainault must die. Snarling with rage, he bore down upon the seated Sheriff, sword raised in a gesture of attack.

"Guy, no!" I screamed from the balcony above. I couldn't tolerate seeing the man I loved turn into a murderer. Had I known what was in store for him after my intercession, I think I'd have left him to kill Robert.

It only took a moment, but Guy was distracted by my scream, and he looked up at the balcony. That was all de Rainault needed to motion to his guard. In a flash, they were upon him and had disarmed him. His sword fell with a noisy clatter to the stone floor as two of the guard pulled his arms back. Guy was forced up against the wall, a soldier from my husband's personal guard on either side of him. In the struggle, Guy's tunic had been ripped and now lay on the floor nearby. Even now, with a guard holding each of his arms straight out to his sides, he was struggling, and as he turned his head upwards, I could see the fear and panic in his eyes.

"Mildred!" he said, struggling to keep his voice steady. "Get away from here!" He twisted and turned against the restraining hands of de Rainault's guards, but it was no good. As I watched, I saw his anger turn to fear, and then absolute blind panic. The steward in him tried another approach. Relaxing his struggle, he turned his head to de Rainault. "My Lord," he said, his voice still shaking, "if you would have your guards unhand me, I might explain…"

De Rainault laughed humourlessly. "That won't be necessary," he said, his voice now deadly calm. "I have seen, and heard, all that I desire to know." Almost languidly, he reached down to his sword belt and pulled out the whip that he kept there, alongside the sheath for his sword. The sharp crack as he shook it out made me wince, and I saw a look of pure terror cross Guy's face. I could see the old scars on Guy's back, criss-crosses of straight pink slashes running from his shoulder blades to his waist, and I knew that Robert intended to create more damage. The certainty that Guy's suffering was going to be immense made my stomach contract and I knew I was going to be sick. I couldn't help it-a moan escaped my lips.

As he saw the whip in de Rainault's grasp, Guy tried to struggle again, kicking out strongly and attempting to wriggle free of his captors. Once again, his face registered panic, but this was turning to anger and frustration as he realised the danger he was in, and his face contorted with terror at what was about to befall him. "Unhand me," he spat savagely at the guards. When he got no response from the guards save blank faces, he roared. "Stand up to your master, damn you!" Desperation was in every fibre of his body, and I knew that he knew it was hopeless.

De Rainault looked up. He couldn't see me, but he knew I was there. "Are you watching, Mildred?" He said silkily, his voice an oily caress. "Are you seeing what I am going to do to your lover, whore?" That last word made me shake even more-it was delivered with such cruel, quiet venom.

"Robert, please…" I whispered. "Don't…" But I knew he couldn't see me. The knowledge of what he was about to do made me light headed, and for a precious moment, I lost consciousness. The last sound I heard before I fainted was the crack of de Rainault's whip making contact with Guy's vulnerable back. Guy's booming, agonised yell echoed in my ears as I fell to the ground.

When I came to, it must have only been a minute or two later. Cursing myself inwardly for fainting, I dragged myself up from the floor and peered through the balustrade. What I saw below in the Great Hall took my breath away. The soldiers had forced Guy down onto the dining table, his long arms spread out to his sides. Sweat and blood drenched his hair and his face was hidden from me. The candles on the table of the Great Hall were burning low, for we had dined late, but I could still see the blood on the whip as Robert raised it again and again. The blood sprayed across the floor as he brought the whip down on the open wound that was Guy's back. It was then that I realised just how much we had humiliated Robert de Rainault, and how much he was going to extract from both of us as payment.

It was a personal kind of justice, I suppose. When I had been in danger before, de Rainault had asked his guards to administer the punishment. Now that Guy and I had betrayed him, he wanted to extract his own, more intimate form of revenge.

My husband's face was neutral now as he continued to whip Guy, and I gripped the balustrade for support. I couldn't help the whimpers that escaped from my lips as I saw Guy receive this treatment, but I knew that I could do nothing to stop it; Robert was past reason. He would just as soon turn the whip on me if I ventured to intercede. I didn't care about my own physical pain, but the child within my belly stopped me from rushing down to intervene. Guy himself made no sound; I hoped he had been numbed into some sort of stupor, for his own sake.

I must have stood there for over half an hour before something happened to stop this appalling situation. I had never been so glad to hear the voice of Abbot Hugo, my brother in law, in my life.

"Robert!" Hugo shouted as he came through the door to the Great Hall. "What is the meaning of this?" The look on the abbot's face was one of sheer horror.

"Talk to my wife!" Robert replied harshly.

"Drop that whip," Hugo retorted, striding towards his brother. Robert refused.

"I said drop it!" Hugo demanded again. He reached his brother's side, and just as he was about to take the bloodstained whip, Robert threw it to the ground.

"Now go to your chambers," he commanded his brother.

"Doesn't your so-called religion state that adulterers shall be punished?" Robert retorted, his gaze still wild.

Hugo picked up the whip that Robert had discarded. "I said, go to your chambers," Hugo said, his voice a steely, authoritative rasp. In that moment, something passed between them, and, surprisingly, Robert complied. I hid in the shadows as Robert passed my room, and mounted the next set of stairs to his own.

As soon as he was gone, I stumbled down the stairs and into the Great Hall. Hugo was standing over Guy, trying to revive him.

"Leave him to me, Hugo," I said quietly, desperately trying to stop my voice from shaking.

Hugo looked at me quizzically. "Are you sure that's wise, Mildred?" his usually hard features showed an odd mixture of compassion and curiosity. "Robert has requested that he be taken to the main dungeon."

"No!" I screamed, near hysterical in my grief. Then, I checked myself. "Take him to the barracks; find him a clean bed."

One of the guards stepped forward. "We're sorry, My Lady, but orders is orders," he said gruffly.

"I'm giving you new orders," I countered wildly, picking up Guy's sword from where it lay on the ground. "Do you hear me?" I knew I made a terrible sight, five months pregnant, tears streaming from my eyes, a too-large sword in my hands, and the guards must have thought me to be quite mad, for they stepped away from Guy hastily.

"Mildred, put the sword down," Hugo said softly. He turned to the guards. "Take Sir Guy to the barracks-I'll deal with your master." Hugo didn't need to be told what had happened, but he knew, and somewhere in his scabbed old heart, he understood, and even though Robert was his brother, he felt some sort of compassion.

I dropped the sword and stumbled to where Guy still lay. Gently I stroked his hair back from his face and I realised that he was unconscious. "Robert will pay for this," I whispered, "one way or another." My hands were already stained scarlet from Guy's wounds and I looked at them helplessly.

At Hugo's command, the guards took Guy to the barracks, and laid him on the nearest vacant cot. As I sat by his side, the abbot cleaned Guy's back.

"Doesn't this rather compromise your position with your brother?" I asked him quietly.

"We'll worry about that later," Hugo said, dipping the cloth he was using into the bowl of warm water by the side of the bed. "My main concern at the moment is to make sure Gisburne doesn't die." He looked most unlike his usual self-he'd shed his cassock so that he didn't cover it in Guy's blood, and his white shirt sleeves were rolled up. Even so, his shirt and breeches were covered in the gory residue of Guy's whipping.

"Thank you, Hugo," I said softly. When I drew breath to continue, Hugo cut me off.

"No, Mildred, don't tell me anything. Do not forget, that I am still Robert's brother, and, the less I know about the circumstances that led to this…unpleasantness, the better. I might guess, but I don't wish for confirmation from you." Dipping the cloth again, he sponged the last of the dried blood from Guy's back.

The action seemed to rouse Guy from his unconsciousness. A muffled groan escaped from his lips and his eyes flickered open.

"Don't talk, Guy," I murmured. "Save your strength." Gasping, I felt the child within me flutter for the first time.

"Mildred?" Hugo asked. "Are you well?"

I smiled sadly and, rather impulsively, I took hold of Hugo's hand and brought it to my stomach. He looked surprised, and rather embarrassed, but then he felt the vaguest flicker under his palm. A smile broke his usually sombre face for a moment.

"A strong child," Hugo said softly. "It'll need to be." He smiled down at me for a moment. "I suggest that if you and your child wish to stay healthy, you get as far out of Robert's way as possible, as soon as you can."

I shook my head. "No, Hugo. I won't leave Guy."

A mixture of emotions crossed the old abbot's face. He knew I was in earnest, so he tried another tactic.

"Mildred," he said gently. "Look at Gis-Guy. He's in no state to protect you now. Robert has seen to that. You must leave here. Or, you must resign yourself to losing Guy and living honestly as Robert's wife."

"Never." I shook my head. I've been living a lie for too long, Hugo. I cannot be Robert's wife any longer." I shuddered. "I never imagined he was capable of such cruelty until I saw it with my own eyes."

"You know," Hugo said slyly, "Gisburne's no white knight either."

I smiled ruefully. "I know, Hugo, believe me, but the prospect of this child has given him hope. How can I take that away from him?" I reached out a trembling hand and ran it through Guy's still sodden hair. "I know his faults, but I cannot destroy him. We've lost too much already."

Hugo sighed, and he suddenly looked a lot older than his years. Wiping his hands on another rag, he ran a hand over his tired eyes. "I can help you," he murmured. "Robert would manufacture a reason to have me beheaded if he found out, but I can get you away from here."

My heart fluttered with the barest of hope. "How?"

"I can have you sent to the Prioress in Kendal," he said softly. "She owes me a…favour. There you will be able to reside until your child is born, at which point I will ensure that funds are made available to you for you to live independently of Robert."

"Why would you do that?" I asked him, marvelling at his compassion.

"My brother is an angry man, Mildred, and I fear that if you stay here, you will be disposed of. Especially when Robert realises that the child you are carrying, as well as the child you lost, were not his. I would be an unchristian man if I were to turn away from you while I bear that knowledge." He shook his head.

"And what of Guy?" I asked, fearing the answer.

"Guy must remain here," Hugo replied.

"No!" I exclaimed. "I would rather risk death at Robert's hands than leave him like this."

"Listen to me, Mildred," Hugo argued. "If you stay here, neither of you are safe, and your child will die. Do you want that?" He reached out and clasped my shoulders for added emphasis. "This way, two of you will survive. Robert won't forgive Guy for his transgressions, but with a bit of luck he'll realise that he's an asset too valuable to lose." Hugo looked back over at Guy, who still lay unconscious on the bed. "I should have seen this coming," he said, dropping his hands from my shoulders. "From the moment you came to Nottingham, it was inevitable."

I started in surprise at his words. "I was under the impression that you were in favour of the match between Robert and myself," I said. The abbot's lust for money was common knowledge, and I had no doubt he knew exactly how much my father had paid to be rid of me.

Hugo sighed. "There are some things that money cannot guarantee." He turned back to me and looked me straight in the eye. "When I saw you and Gisburne dancing during the banquet for the Earl of Chester, you gave away more than you assumed could be seen."

"B-but there was nothing…" I stammered, amazed that the abbot had picked up on something that was so much a subtext at that time.

"It was Gisburne who gave it away to me," Hugo replied, a ghost of a smile on his face. "I have known him since he was but a hot-headed page, and I had never seen such a warmth in his eyes as when he was dancing with you. At the time you might have been innocent, but it confirmed my original fears for the sanctity of your marriage to my brother."

I was amazed at the astuteness of the abbot's observations, when I had tried so hard to disguise my own feelings at the time of the banquet. Filled with fresh admiration for the man who was offering me aid, I realised that I now had no option but to put my fate in his hands. Slowly, I bowed my head. It seemed so incredibly selfish, to leave Guy to face his fate alone, but Hugo's argument made sense to me, no matter how much I hated it. I brought my eyes up again to meet the abbot's.

"Very well," I said the resignation heavy in my voice. "Let it be done."

Hugo nodded, and clasped my hands for a moment. "It is for the best," he said gently. "You will see that, in time."

I turned back to the bed where Guy lay, and thanked the heavens that he was still only partially conscious. I knew that, had been fully aware of our discussion, he would have protested at the planned course of action. This way, it was fractionally easier to accept Hugo's proposal.

"Now, go to your chamber," Hugo said. "You must leave at once. I will summon a guard for you from my own soldiers, and you must pack only a few possessions. The ride, in your condition, will be slow, and the road is long."

I forced a smile, and rose from the bed. "Will I be able to say goodbye to him?" I asked softly.

"I don't think he'll hear you," Hugo said. He suddenly looked incredibly sad. "Robert is my brother, but at times, I fear for his immortal soul."

Touching Guy's hair one last time before I left the room, I hurried to gather a few belongings from my chamber. I still feared for what would happen to Guy, but I knew that the old abbot was right. This was the only course of action I could take. The child within me fluttered again, and it was that small movement that vanquished the last of my doubts.

A little time later, the preparations were in place for my journey. Hugo had sent a swift rider on ahead to inform the Prioress of Kendal of the situation, and he now waited in the moonlit courtyard to see me off. His pale face turned towards me as he prepared to help me onto my horse.

"You are a kind man, Hugo," I said, a tremor in my voice. "I cannot thank you enough for this."

Hugo smiled sadly. "Safe journey, Mildred," he replied. He placed a large, pale hand on my shoulder. "Take care of what you still have."

Eventually, I drew back and pulled a letter from my pocket. "Will you…"

"Of course." Hugo said, noticing Guy's name on the front. Gently, he helped me up onto my horse, and motioned to his guard to flank me.

"Look after yourself, and the child, Mildred," Hugo said gently.

"Take care of Guy," I whispered, not trusting myself to speak.

The horses began to walk from the courtyard, and the last thing I saw before I left Nottingham Castle was the figure of my saviour melting back into the darkness.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

The journey to Kendal was long, and difficult. Although the summer weather was coming, I felt cold all the way to the abbey. I was entirely unable to appreciate the beautiful countryside we rode through, and even when we stopped for the night I ate and drank little. Without Guy, my life had lost all colour and meaning. The only thing that kept me going was the slight movement of our child within my belly. If nothing else, that was the legacy of our relationship.

By the time I got to Kendal Priory, the Prioress had received Hugo's letter and had prepared a simple room for me. It was plainly furnished, but I did not require anything other than a bed and some parchment to write on. Hugo had promised, whenever he could, to send me news of Guy's recovery, and I in return had promised to keep him informed of the progress of the child and I.

The remaining four months of my pregnancy passed slowly, but calmly. Except for the Prioress, the nuns were unaware of my exact circumstances, but I was not the first woman in my condition to reside at the Priory. Usually, the women were married and were installed in the Priory when their husbands were away for long periods. This, according to the Prioress, had been happening more and more of late due to the frequency of England's battles with our French neighbours. Thus, my presence was nothing out of the ordinary, even if my circumstances were.

It was unusual for Hugo to have told the Prioress the truth-any other woman in my position, an adulteress and pregnant with a bastard child, would have been cast into poverty, for the church did not view adulterers kindly. However, Hugo and the Prioress seemed bound by some other affection in addition to their responsibilities within the church, and because of this, I was permitted to stay.

The nuns were courteous and kind, but rather distant. I put this down to the fact that I represented everything that they had rejected from the world, and so I was unworried by this attitude, even if at times I felt lonely.

I had received several letters from Hugo in the time I'd been at the Priory, and I think I'd written hundreds more to him. His letters were careful not to give away my exact location-I think he was worried that Robert, or even Guy, would try to find me, if for entirely different motives. I was desperate for news of Guy, and when Hugo's first letter came two weeks after I reached the Priory, it brought some news.

_My dear child,_

_I am gratified to learn that you and the child have reached _safety_. I know that you are thirsty for news of Guy, and so I tell you this quickly. He is making a slow, but steady recovery within the walls of the Abbey. I thought it expedient to remove him from Robert's sight for the time being._

_For the first few weeks of his recovery he was listless. It was as if, as you left, you took with you his ability to be angry, to fight. I was glad of that to begin with, but it soon began to worry me. It wasn't until I saw him berating a young novice for spilling a jug of ale that I ceased to worry, as he was obviously on the mend._

_As soon as he was able, Guy got back on his horse. I think this means of escape for him has aided his emotional recovery. He feels completely responsible for the events that have separated you-I know this from the only conversation we had about that night, some days after I removed him to the abbey. Guy knows that he should have kept control of his temper, not allowed my brother to anger him so much, and that knowledge both frustrates and grieves him. He is recovering, gradually, but his desire for solitude drives him out into the countryside. I think he's trying to look for you-hoping, however irrationally, that he might stumble across your whereabouts. _

_Guy asks after you often, but I keep silent as to your precise location. He vows that he will find you, when he is well, but I hope that by the time he is recovered I will have been able to reconcile him with Robert. As you and I discussed, this will be for the best._

_Robert himself is recovering his spirits. I sense that he knows I had a hand in your disappearance, but he isn't pursuing this line of enquiry for the moment. In truth, though it pains me to tell you, as it will pain you to hear it, he too is a broken man. Your betrayal affected him deeply - more deeply than I could have imagined possible, and while his state of mind is partly due to wounded pride, he does, I sense, miss your presence in Nottingham. He tolerates the knowledge that Guy resides in the abbey-almost as if he knows now that pursuing Guy would bring no reward._

_God keep you safe, my child, I pray for you both,_

_Hugo_

This little news at least set my heart and mind at rest about Guy's condition, and I did find myself feeling sad for Robert, in spite of his terrible deeds.

I wrote many letters to Guy that summer, but I knew I could not send them. Hugo was right; it was better that Guy was reinstated with Robert, and I knew that, if I had suggested otherwise to Hugo, he would have been unable, in all conscience, to provide the security he'd promised for me after the birth of my child. He was a good and holy man, but even he had limits.

As the time grew near for me to give birth, I felt Guy's absence more keenly. I needed him to be with me at this critical time, and the more I wished it, the more I knew it couldn't be.

Babies do not often take into account the time when they decide to make their entrance, so I'm told, and this one was no exception. It was three hours before sunrise when Josephine Elizabeth de Brecy entered this world, and she awakened me with a start.

I had been restless in sleep all night, and when my labours started, I wasn't overly surprised. I called out for the Prioress, who, as my time grew closer, had been sleeping in the adjacent chamber. The nuns were adept at dealing with women about to give birth, and so in very little time, the bed was prepared and Josephine was well on her way.

According to the midwife, the nuns feared for the walls of the Priory, I was screaming so loudly, and, most indiscreetly, for Guy. The pain, both in my heart and in my loins, was unimaginable. Eventually, just as the sun was rising, my daughter took her first breath.

Of course, I wrote to Hugo as soon as I was able, for he wanted to know the outcome of my labour, not just for Guy, but also for his own peace of mind. I wrote as long a letter as I could manage, informing him of Josephine's safe arrival, and that I wished him, if it were ever possible, to be her godfather. He was doubly delighted at the news, and wrote quickly back to me.

_Dear Mildred and Josephine,_

_I thank your for your recent letter, detailing your happy news. It is wonderful to read that you are both doing so well. I am, of course, delighted to accept the role of godfather to Josephine, although I fear it is a role that will have to go unacknowledged and unheralded._

_I broke the news to Guy of Josephine's birth soon after I received your letter. He drew his sword and threatened to decapitate me if I did not tell him where you were. Thankfully, he saw sense when I explained that this was not immediately possible. When he had calmed himself a little, I told him that you were both healthy and that you sent your fondest greetings to him. He is fully recovered from the unpleasantness of his injuries now, and Robert is almost reconciled to him. My brother sensed that Guy was of more use to him as a steward than a corpse, and so he has, if not exactly welcomed him back, he has kept him in his employ._

_Please appreciate that the utmost discretion is required in our communications, if you are to remain safe from Robert, who is still looking for you. I am unsure how much communication I will be able to sustain with you after you are relocated-I do not wish to put you and Josephine in further danger._

_God keep you safe and well, my children,_

_Hugo_

I was to stay at the Priory for some time after Josephine was born. Whilst this was an unusual situation, the Prioress's fondness for Hugo extended to me by association. They found me some light duties to perform. copying out manuscripts and, when I recovered my strength after Josephine's birth, assisting in the Priory gardens.

Hugo said that he would attempt to have me relocated somewhere where I would be safe from Robert. His promise had been a hasty one on the night of my departure from Nottingham, and I had the sense that he hadn't been entirely certain if it _was_ possible to hide me from my husband. In fact, as the weeks went on, I slowly began to realise that I may not have the security of that promise to look to. Gradually, I settled to life at the Priory. It was strange, but not unpleasant.

My yearning for Guy never waned. I know that the nuns heard me sobbing in the dead of night at times, but they never asked me about it, and I never offered any information. Initially, the Prioress refrained from asking me whether I had considered taking the veil. She knew I couldn't have given up my daughter-the last link between Guy and I, and so she tolerated the oddness of my presence at the Priory. And it was an odd situation. I couldn't help but wonder what would have happened to me without Hugo's timely assistance. He held definite sway here, and although it was a bizarre way to live life, at least I had been allowed to keep it, and my daughter.

As Josephine grew, I noticed that she was beginning to develop her father's striking eyes and fair hair, and that was some comfort to me. She was a beautiful child, but tempestuous, another trait of her father's. In fact, I looked at her sometimes and I wondered just how much of myself existed in her-she was so like Guy.

The first year of her life passed so swiftly that before I knew it, it was late summer again. I had seen barely anyone outside the Priory in the time since Josephine had been born; my companions were the nuns. Although it might have seemed contrary to their vows, they doted on Josephine, and were tolerant of me. I formed no close relationships during my time at the Priory, but there was no doubting the nuns' perceived duty of care towards my daughter and I.

The solitude gave me plenty of time to think. My thoughts never strayed far from Guy, and the yearning that he might one day see his own child. I knew that it was taking a risk to ask Hugo what I asked him in a letter, but I needed to at least attempt it. So, it was with a heavy, yet hopeful heart, I requested that he tell Guy where I was, so that Guy might see his child.

As Josephine grew I began to notice more and more about her that reminded me of her father. She was determined, and stubborn, but she was also loving and smiled so sweetly when she was amused. She was absolutely fearless, and many were the times that I had to snatch her away from hazards such as the open fire in the Priory kitchen as her curiosity got the better of her.

Weeks went by before I received an answer to my letter, and I had almost given up hope. Many times I wondered if, in fact, Hugo had received my letter. I thought, in my darker moments, that it might have gone astray. I watched the days grow shorter, and with them, I began to lose faith. I tried to satisfy myself with the warning that Hugo had given me before I that communication with me would be a risky business, hence the delay, but I still worried.

Eventually, a letter came.

_Dearest Mildred and Josephine,_

_I hope that this letter finds you both well. I apologise for the delay in responding to your letter, but I wanted to be certain of the news that I had to communicate before setting pen to paper. _

I was concerned; what news did Hugo have to impart, and was good news?

_I am due to make a visit to the Priory in the next month. I have requested to Robert that Guy be allowed to accompany me on this visit, as the head of the Abbey Guards has been taken ill. It will hopefully provide an opportunity, albeit a brief one, for the three of you to be reunited. I must confess some little excitement myself at the prospect of seeing my goddaughter for the first time. It goes without saying that you must not respond to this letter-it would be too much of a risk for all three of you should our communications fall into the wrong hands. _

_May God watch over you,_

_Hugo._

I grabbed hold of the ceramic goblet of wine so hard it cracked in my hand. After all this time, I was finally going to see Guy again. It wasn't an ideal situation, but it was far, far better than I could have hoped. In ten days from now, our family, such as it was, would be reunited.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

The days that followed dragged intolerably. I busied myself as much as I could with Josephine and my duties, but still my thoughts strayed. The Prioress herself reprimanded me, albeit with a twinkle in her eye, when she saw that I had written 'Guy' instead of 'God' on one of the manuscripts I was copying. No matter how much I tried to take my mind from the approaching reunion with him, Guy occupied all of my waking thoughts, and many of my dreams.

The day of their arrival finally approached, and I couldn't bring myself to eat. I had barely slept the night, and Josephine sensed my tension, and became restive. She had no idea why her mother was so unsettled, and so, for her sake, I decided to escape the Priory buildings and walk outside in the open air for a time.

Josephine was gaining weight under the nuns' watchful care, and so our progress around the Priory gardens was slow. I tried to take my mind off Guy and Hugo's arrival by pointing out all of the late summer wild flowers to Josephine. This seemed to placate her a little, and her small hands grasped at the colourful trailing plants that adorned the garden walls as we passed by.

Eventually, we turned back from the gardens to make our way back to the Priory buildings. Josephine had developed a fondness for the few ponies that the Priory owned, and so, to provide a further distraction from the long wait we were enduring, I decided to take her into the stables to see them. As we approached the buildings, which looked imposing against the background of the hills, I began to feel nervous for a different reason about the impending visit. What if this was a trap? What if Hugo had turned on us and Robert was coming instead of Guy? I had learned, over time, to try to put my fate in the hands of the Almighty, trusting that what happened to me had been determined by a higher power than I, but I was still afraid.

I had to trust Hugo, contrary to whatever I had thought of him in the past. He had been most generous to me, and I had little reason to mistrust him. Shaking my head slightly, trying to clear the feelings of nervousness, I wandered into the stable block. Josephine squeaked with delight as she saw the pale shapes of the rotund Priory ponies in the stable. The sunlight cast dappled rays over the forms of the nearest beasts as they chewed lazily at the hay in their stalls. As we walked further into the stables, I could make out three of them, all resting in the coolness of the stable. Shifting Josephine to my other hip, I began to make my way towards one of them, opening the bolt on the stable door, when suddenly my feet felt rooted to the spot.

There, haltered in the nearest box, was a very familiar face. Dark as a winter's night, long legged and fine muscled, with a shine to his coat that never seemed to suffer from the dirt, was a very fine animal indeed. As if he'd sensed me, Fury raised his head and looked me straight in the eye. Josephine began to fidget in an attempt to be taken over to see him. I was only too happy to oblige. Swiftly, I bolted the door of the stall I had been about to enter and then stumbled over the loose straw in the stable to where Fury was tethered. With my free hand I grabbed a handful of his mane and pulled his long black nose towards me. He gave a pleased snort and began to sniff Josephine, who gurgled with delight.

"He's here," I breathed. "I can't believe he's actually here."

As if God had planned that next moment himself, a shadow fell across where I stood, and I felt two warm, rather shaky hands, cover my eyes. Suddenly weak with relief and disbelief, I leaned back against the owner of the hands. Could it really be him?

Words failed me as I reached up the hand that had been touching Fury to feel the hands over my eyes. I felt the familiar shape of his long, elegant fingers, and for a moment I feared for Josephine's safety in my arms.

"Well?" A deep, rather gruff voice said, close to my ear. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

I let out a breath that was half a cry, and spun round to face the speaker. There he was, looking a little older, and I noticed there was an odd streak of white in the front of his hair, but he was there; real, solid, and there.

"Can it be you?" I whispered. "Oh, God, can it be you?" I fell towards him, and he clasped me gently to him, mindful of the small figure in my arms.

"Not God, but Guy actually," he replied, a very definite tremor in his voice. For a moment the three of us basked in the warmth of one another, until Josephine began to grumble again. I moved slightly away from Guy, and rearranged Josephine in my embrace.

"Josephine Elizabeth de Brecy, I'd like you to meet your father," I whispered, lifting her slightly so that Guy could see her better. The look in his eyes was one I will remember for eternity. A whole mixture of emotions crossed his face in that one moment, and I felt an almost overwhelming combination of relief and grief; relief that he had at last met his child, and grief that we couldn't be together for longer.

Wordlessly, I lifted Josephine further, and motioned for Guy to hold her. He looked absolutely terrified.

"Mildred…are you sure I can…that is, I…" he stammered, not knowing where to put his hands.

"It's easy, Guy, don't worry," I replied, smiling at his dilemma. "You're her father, she likes you already." Gingerly he took hold of his daughter, and after a moment of awkwardness, when he finally worked out where his hands were supposed to go, Josephine settled happily into his arms. I had never seen anything so painfully beautiful.

"Let's go and find Hugo," he said, still holding Josephine. "I know he's anxious to meet his goddaughter."

I nodded, and as Guy made to return Josephine to me, I said. "No, you take her-she's quite happy with you."

Guy looked gratified, although still nervous. "Very well, if you're sure," he said. I smiled. He had a lot to learn, and, I thought with a stab of sadness, not much time in which to learn it.

The three of us wandered out into the courtyard and soon we met with Hugo, who was in deep conversation with the Prioress. They obviously knew each other well; I saw him rest a hand on her arm for emphasis as he was making a point, and as the Prioress turned, I caught the slightest of twinkles in her eye, not entirely caused by the sight of Josephine, Guy and I.

The moment the abbot saw the three of us together, his expressions ranged from delight to apprehension to sadness, but delight won out, and he strode over to us, gown flying.

"Mildred, my child, it is good to see you!" He exclaimed, taking me by the shoulders and kissing me gently on the forehead. "You look well."

"I am," I said softly, glancing at Guy.

Hugo turned his attentions to Guy for a moment, and his face softened when he saw the wriggling bundle in Guy's arms. "And this must be Josephine," the old abbot said, reaching out his hands to take her.

Guy hesitated, and Hugo laughed. "Come, come, Gisburne, I've been holding babies over the baptismal font since long before you were born!" Smiling guiltily, Guy handed Josephine over to him.

"Greetings, goddaughter," Hugo murmured. "And what a healthy child you are. She's flourishing, Mildred." He held her at arm's length for a moment. "And a good weight too."

I laughed. "She's got quite an appetite!"

"I feel the need to show her to everyone now," Hugo said with a twinkle in his eye. "If her mother will permit me to take charge for a moment." He looked vaguely unsure as Josephine grabbed the large silver cross that hung around his neck, but at her delighted giggle, he laughed.

"By all means, Hugo," I replied, sensing that he was allowing Guy and I to spend some time alone.

"Why don't you take a walk in the grounds, the two of you?" Hugo continued. "Perhaps you have some…ah…catching up to do? News and whatnot?"

I smiled at the Abbot's lack of subtlety, but nodded. "We won't go far," I said, "just in case Josephine becomes fretful." With that, Guy and I took our leave.

As soon as we were out of reasonable sight of the Abbey, I fell into Guy's arms, and he into mine. I couldn't stop shaking, certain that he would vanish just as quickly as he had appeared. We kissed and kissed, and the passion that we had always felt for one another came flooding back.

There was so much to say, and, I feared, so little time to say it. I didn't know where to begin. Fortunately, Guy did.

"Hugo's had me reinstated with the Sheriff," he started. We wandered over to a small stone bench in the abbey garden, and sat as close as we could to one another.

"His help came as a great surprise to me on the night…we were found out," I replied. "I had always written him off as corrupt, but he was determined to help us."

Guy looked thoughtful. "He might be the Sheriff's brother, but there are some things that the Sheriff does that even that blood tie can't ignore." Guy shuddered, and I knew he was remembering that night. I moved a little closer to him.

"And Robert treats you well?" I asked.

"Not well, but he tolerates me. As Hugo said, I'm of more use to him alive than dead. De Rainault's nothing if not pragmatic." Guy sighed. "But the fact remains, if I could, I'd give it all up and come to you." He leaned over and kissed me.

"I wish you could," I said sadly. "But Hugo is right-for you and I, it's safer this way."

"And Josephine?" He asked.

"I know, but perhaps in time she might get to know her father." I rested my head against his shoulder momentarily. "She certainly likes you."

Guy smiled sadly. "She's the most beautiful thing, apart from her mother, that I've ever seen." He drew me closer for a moment and I revelled in the warmth of his embrace. I didn't know when there would be another moment like this.

Time passes swiftly when we will it to stand still, and this day was no exception. Hugo and Guy needed to make a start on their return journey that evening, as Robert had demanded his steward back by nightfall three days hence, and the journey was long. I dreaded the moment of goodbye, but, at least this time, Guy was well and conscious.

The three of us ate a simple meal together, and then Hugo quietly interceded and stressed that it was time he and Guy returned. The dusk was beginning to encroach on the Priory, and the warm glow of the setting sun seemed to bathe everything in gentle colour. I wandered out to the stables with Guy, my hand clasped tightly in his free hand-he was cradling a tired Josephine with his other arm. He'd had some time, after Hugo had returned Josephine to us, to get to know his daughter, and for that I was glad.

"This is not the end, Mildred," he said softly. "Whenever it is possible, I will be with you. Please don't ever think that I have forgotten you, and what you mean to me." He pulled me close for a moment, and then returned Josephine to my arms. "One day, we will be together-all three of us."

I nodded, unable to speak. The naked, honest look in his eyes was too much for me, and I knew that parting from his child and I was as hard for him as it was for us. Slowly I raised my free hand and touched the streak of white at the front of his hair.

"Happened soon after you left," Guy smiled ruefully. "I like to think of it as a permanent reminder."

"Come back to me, Guy," I said. "I don't care if I have to wait a lifetime, just promise me one day that you will." He pulled me close again.

"I will," he said softly.

Then it was time for he and Hugo to leave. Lithe as ever, he mounted Fury and looked down at Josephine and I. He seemed to want to remember us. Suddenly, a small smile teased the corners of his mouth.

"There's something I forgot to tell you," he said as he mounted Fury.

"What?" I asked.

"Rosa had her foal, and you'll be pleased to know that he's got his father's colouring and his mother's eyes."

I laughed a little. "And Rosa?"

"Doing well," replied Guy. "Fury's a little irritated about being parted from her overnight, but at least he and I will have something to talk about on the ride back." He shook his head. "One day, Mildred." Almost defying gravity, he leaned out of his saddle and kissed me one last time.

Hugo smiled and bid his farewells to Josephine and I, and before I knew it, they had gone. I stood at the Priory gates for as long as I could see them, and then, brushing away the inevitable tears, I wandered back into the Priory with Josephine.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

I was heavy hearted for many days after Guy and Hugo had left. Seeing Guy had been both a blessing and a curse; it was divine to be back in his arms again, but the pain of parting had reminded me all too keenly of what I had lost. Josephine also seemed to miss her father, as she was more distressed. I chose to keep her with me morning and night over the next few days, distancing myself from the nuns who usually helped entertain her. She shouldn't really have slept in my bed, but I still needed the comfort. She too, seemed to respond to my closeness. As I fell asleep that first night, I saw Guy's face dancing before my eyes, and I thought I would go mad with the grief of losing him all over again.

The following days and weeks were difficult. Josephine sensed my melancholy, and was restive and irritable in response. The shortening autumn days reminded me just how much of my life was running away from me, and I grew more and more dissatisfied with my situation. I was barely nineteen years old and it was as though my life had ended. I constantly kept reminding myself that I was lucky to have escaped from Robert, and that Hugo had been more than generous as my saviour, but during the cold, dark nights, when I felt as if I was the only person left on earth, these two facts did little to keep me warm.

I knew that the Prioress was concerned about me, but I didn't know what I could do to pull myself out of the dark pit of my emotions. There was only one person who could help me, and he was over a hundred miles away. My one small comfort was that he was safe now; Hugo had seen to that.

Inevitably, my depression led to ill health, and the onset of winter did little to remedy that. Josephine was growing stronger by the day, but I myself was weakening, pining away for the love I had lost. I had nothing to distract me from my misery as time marched relentlessly on, until one day, something happened to remind me even more clearly of life before the Priory.

It was mid November, and the nights were getting darker and colder. Josephine had begun to toddle about, and, excited by her own newfound freedom, she showed the desire more and more often to be in the open air. I attempted to give her as much of that freedom as I could, and we both began to venture just outside the grounds of the Priory, into the woods, just for a change of scene.

Josephine liked to walk along the main forest path for as far as she was able before we normally turned back. She was gaining confidence, and, on this particular occasion, it was all I could do to keep up with her as she scuttled down the path, holding onto my hand. From time to time she would fall over, but, with her father's determination, she would pick herself back up and continue her shaky progress, all the while under my watchful eye.

On this particular day, Josephine was walking, holding my hand, and we were on the verge of turning back to the Priory as the sun was waning from the sky. It was peaceful in the forest, and only the call of one or two birds broke the silence under the canopy of trees. There was a slight breeze in the air, and with it was the onset of winter. As we were walking down the path, I suddenly became aware of a faint sound, emanating from further into the forest. It was a sound I'd missed greatly during my time at the Priory; a sound I hadn't heard since my days at Nottingham Castle; a sound that brought all kinds of memories flooding back to me.

I strained my ears, wondering where the sound was coming from. It seemed to be growing closer to Josephine and I. Josephine began to grumble about stopping on the path, so I gathered her up in my arms and waited, listening intently.

It was then that I saw. From about a hundred yards away, sauntering down the path, seemingly without a care in the world, came the source of the sound. He was still too far away for me to get a clear look at him, but he had a voice so distinctive that all of a sudden I remembered. He was playing a lute, and his voice rose to the treetops in time with the music. It had changed a little over the years, grown deeper and more rough, no doubt as a result of too much wine and ale, but he still could hold a tune like no other. Coming down the path towards me was my first love; Alan a Dale.

How things change when life changes. Barely fifty yards away now, was a man I'd have sacrificed everything for at one time; my virtue, lands, my fine clothes and my reputation. He continued walking towards me-he didn't seem to recognise me at first, but as he drew closer, the song died on his lips.

"Alan?" I whispered, barely able to believe my eyes. Josephine squirmed in my arms, and buried her head on my shoulder as the stranger, in her eyes, approached, and I tightened my grip on her.

"Mildred?" He relied, a look of shock and wonder in his eyes. "Mildred de Brecy?"


	18. Chapter 18

It seemed an eternity that we stood on that path together. Josephine clasped my right hand, suddenly shy in front of the stranger. She didn't encounter many men, in our current circumstances, so she was cautious.

"Alan?" I repeated, still in a state of disbelief at who I was seeing. "But how…what are you doing here?" Absently I pulled Josephine a little closer to me as she was starting to wriggle.

Alan smiled ruefully, meeting my gaze with seeming sincerity. "Let's just say I found it hard to settle after you married the Sheriff of Nottingham." Those eyes, seemingly so sincere in their expression, looked directly into mine, but they didn't quite have the same effect as they used to, years ago. When I was sixteen I'd have believed anything he said, but not I was a little more cautious.

I shook my head. "But we're miles from Nottingham – how is it that you're in this part of the world?" The birds overhead fluttered in the trees, as if they too were listening in on this most odd, and chance, of conversations.

This time Alan didn't quite meet my gaze, choosing to bow in a mock-dramatic fashion. "The life of a wandering minstrel, my lady, by definition, means I wander." Straightening up again, he slum his lute behind his back. I saw the question in his eyes as his eyes alighted on Josephine for a moment.

There was more to this meeting than met the eye, I was sure of it, but before I could question him further, he knelt down in front of Josephine.

"And who is this?" He asked jovially. "Can you tell me your name, little one?"

Josephine squirmed and wriggled, hiding her face behind my skirts.

"She's a little shy with strangers," I said. "She's not used to seeing many people outside of the convent."

"The convent?" Alan questioned. "Then you…are you…did you take the veil? But how…is she an orphan in the care of the nuns?"

Something stopped me from telling him the whole truth at that moment. I knew I was a different person from the young girl he'd courted back at my father's dwelling, and I had the feeling Alan would find it difficult to understand the events that had brought me here. But there was no denying Josephine's relation to me.

"She's my daughter." I replied.

"Your daughter?" Alan looked from Josephine to me incredulously. "You mean you and the Sheriff…?" His mouth fell open in shock at the possibility that I might actually have consummated a marriage that he knew I was so against.

I looked at his expression, and I realised I couldn't tell him the truth. I wasn't prepared to divulge my true circumstances to someone who had left me to my fate all those years ago. "That's not really your concern," I said quietly.

"But why are you at Kendal?" He asked.

"I find myself here of necessity," I replied, being deliberately evasive. I hoped this would put an end to his questions. Seeing him had jolted me, but not so much that I had the need to tell him everything. He, after all, had made no effort to save me from the horror of marriage to de Rainault, and while I could forgive him that, under the circumstances, that did not mean I was ready to give him my life's history.

Alan looked stung, momentarily. "As you wish, Mildred." Then, after a moment's hesitation. "Will you walk with me?"

I smiled. "We are almost back at the priory. But it was good to see you."

If Alan was surprised at my rebuffal of his invitation, he did his best to hide it.

"Very well." He paused. "It was good to see you, Mildred."

"And you, Alan," I replied. He kissed my hand and made to leave.

Later that evening, after our meal, I mentioned my encounter with Alan to the Prioress.

"Ah yes," she replied. "He is often to be seen, and heard, in these parts."

"Really?" I questioned. "He visits the Priory?"

Prioress snorted. "Not since Sister Angelica caught him with the youngest of our novices!"

I gasped. "Reverend Mother! Are you certain it was him?"

The Prioress looked levelly at me. "Of course," she replied. "I'd remember that voice in an instant. He was the only minstrel I've ever known who wailed worse than the Priory's tom cat, and half as tunefully."

Stifling a laugh, I turned away. It amazed me that a man who once dominated my young life should now seem so ridiculous. Perhaps fate had dealt me a better hand than I'd thought when it took me from Alan and gave me to Robert de Rainault. Perhaps life with Alan would have led me to nothing but insecurity and hardship. Perhaps I was truly able to move on and forget him. I tried to ignore the inner voice that was telling me sooner or later I'd forget Guy as well.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Ridiculous or not, there was no doubting it; the encounter with Alan had shaken me. The life I had led before my marriage to Robert de Rainault now seemed as if it had happened to someone else. I had been relieved, in a way, to see him move on, away from the Priory. He meant something to me as my first love, but I had known, deep in my own heart, that my feelings now lay elsewhere. Seeing him again had proved a pleasant distraction from my immediate circumstances, but that was all it had been.

I couldn't escape the fact that I was now living at the Priory on borrowed time. In the back of my mind, I knew that eventually, my daughter and I would have to leave the protection of the Priory. It was deeply impractical, in my current circumstances, to continue to live there. But what was I to do? I had no income of my own, and Hugo could not be expected to provide funds for me indefinitely. As it was, I was living on his good will towards the Prioress, and I couldn't continue to reside at the Priory without taking the veil. It seemed that I was to be destitute, penniless, with a young child, in a short time.

One evening, the Prioress came to me in my small room. Her expression was solemn and I knew her well enough to know that she needed to discuss my future. I turned from the parchment I was writing and stood to face the Prioress.

"Reverend Mother," I said, all formality.

"Mildred," she replied. "It is time we had a conversation about what is to become of you and Josephine."

I smiled sadly. "I knew this time would come sooner or later. I prayed it would be later."

The Prioress seated herself in the wooden chair and I sat on the edge of my small cot, waiting for the inevitable.

"It is time that we made a more permanent decision about your future," the Prioress said. "As you know, and much to my own sadness, your accommodation here was merely intended to be temporary, until your child was born. You and Josephine have been a welcome addition to the Priory, but I'm sure you can see that your presence here, with a child, can be seen as at best, irregular, at worst, immoral, in the eyes of those who are the beneficiaries of this place."

I nodded. "You have been most generous to me, and to my daughter. I cannot thank you enough." I said.

The Prioress smiled briefly. "Although I, and the other sisters, would like it to be in our power to keep you here, the time has come for your situation to change. The Abbot at St George's has been increasing the pressure for you to be removed from the Priory, lest your circumstances influence those who are still in the process of taking the veil. Neither Abbot Hugo's influence, or indeed my own, are sufficient to change his mind."

I tried to stop the hammering of my heart, but I feared the Prioress would hear it crashing through my ribs. What were we to do? How could I leave the Priory knowing that I had nowhere to go to?

As if she sensed my questions, the Prioress continued.

"Mildred, Josephine is a beautiful child, and the Abbot has offered to raise her in the care of the church. If you choose to follow this course, and yourself take the veil, I am sure he would have no objection to your remaining at the Priory."

"But I am a fallen woman," I said, a trace of bitterness in my voice. ""Surely that is even more dangerous than my merely being the mother of a bastard child?"

The Prioress sighed. "The Abbot cares more for the appearance of his Priory than the nature of its inhabitants. An adulterous mother and her child at the Priory are inexcusable; a constant reminder of infidelity. The mother, having chosen to give up her child and take the veil in the name of God, thus accepting the chastisement of the Church, is a more holy option." The irony in her voice was unmistakeable.

"Then I must give up my child?" I said. The prospect of losing Josephine was unendurable, but the idea of keeping her, and being turned out into the cold was unimaginable. I could see I had no choice.

"Thank you, Reverend Mother," I replied, swallowing hard to fight back the tears that threatened. "I cannot ever thank you adequately for the care you have shown Josephine and I. You, and Hugo, have been most tolerant and kind to us both."

"Abbot Hugo and I have shared many years' affinity," the Prioress said, looking at me thoughtfully. "Had our circumstances been different…our paths may have crossed in a somewhat different way."

All the time that I had resided at the Priory, I had never presumed to ask the Prioress about her dealings with Abbot Hugo, so I was surprised when she offered me this small piece of information. It would have been deeply improper of me to ask any questions of her, but I sensed that she and Hugo perhaps once had shared more than just a calling. If that had been the case, perhaps sending me to the Priory, while undoubtedly a sympathetic gesture, had meant that he was able to renew his contact with the Prioress. My heart was breaking, but for a moment I allowed myself a little speculation.

The Prioress reached over to me and clasped my hand. "Have strength, Mildred," she said gently. "Josephine will be well looked after in the church. And we will take care of you here."

I blinked back the tears that had been threatening to fall. "I know," I replied. "It is the only course of action open to me."

After the Prioress had left, I spent the sleepless hours before dawn holding my daughter. If only Guy knew the decision I was being forced to make. But even if he did, I reasoned, there was nothing he could do. He was as much a victim in Nottingham as I was here in Kendal. As the cold grey fingers of morning infiltrated the night, I knew that I must resign myself to my fate, and take the veil; if not for myself, then for the sake of my daughter.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

In the days that followed I became more and more aware that time was running out. I needed to make a decision about the future of my daughter and I. The Prioress was right; I couldn't stay on much longer at the Priory unless I was prepared to give up my daughter and take the veil. Josephine would be sent away, to grow up in the bosom of the church who could provide for her, and I would cloister myself away from the world, donning the drab grey robes of a novice.

The thought of losing my daughter made me feel ill with sorrow and sickness. She was my last link to Guy; the only thing that made being apart from him bearable was her company. How could I give her up? But how could I leave the abbey, knowing that I would be destitute, and unable to provide for the daughter I loved so much? Guy was unable to help-he was dependent on the Sheriff of Nottingham for his income, and he couldn't leave the city. If he did, I knew that de Rainault would hunt us down. It was with a heavy heart that I realised I no longer had any choice. Josephine and I must be parted, and I must take the veil.

A week had passed; I was due to give the Prioress my decision. Having barely slept the night before, I kept Josephine close to me, trying to memorise the scent and feel of her. The Prioress had assured me that she would be well taken care of, but the thought of losing her tore me in half. I cradled her in my arms as she took her afternoon sleep, her blonde curls grew damp as my tears fell. She was guaranteed a better life than I could offer her, but I couldn't bear to lose her.

The evening came, and I stumbled from my small chamber, groggy from grief and lack of sleep. But my decision had been made. It was the best for my daughter, and, under the circumstances, best for me. Hugo had been informed of my decision by a letter from the Prioress, and I knew that he would have told Guy.

The Prioress looked at me as I entered her room. She said nothing about my tired appearance, and merely handed me a piece of parchment.

"Once you have taken the veil, the privilege of communication with the outside world will be one you will not be afforded, save in exceptional circumstances," the Prioress said gently. "You must distance yourself from all that had happened before."

"I understand," I whispered. So this was to be the last uncensored letter I would receive, I thought. My hands shook slightly as I opened it. I noticed Abbot Hugo's seal on the parchment, still intact. Then, as I read the first few lines of the letter, I nearly dropped it into the fire.

Dearest Mildred and Josephine,

I hope this letter finds you before you make a terrible decision. Mildred, the Prioress informed me some time ago that you must take the veil and give up Josephine to the church. I beg you to reconsider. I cannot say more, for fear of causing great harm to someone you love, but please, remain at Kendal Priory until you receive word.

Yours truly,

Hugo

"Has he taken leave of his senses?" I asked incredulously. "What can he mean?"

The Prioress, who had impeccable manners and had not tried to read the letter, gently took the parchment from me. She drew her breath in sharply as she read the Abbot's words.

"Mildred," she said, at last. "It is not often that I would trust a man of God when he as delivered quite so cryptic a message, but on this occasion, I suggest you follow Hugo's advice."

For two days I prowled the Priory like an angry lioness, pent up with fear, suspense and agitation. Having come to terms with losing my daughter, I felt the churning terror, once again, that Hugo had, if not gone mad, then perhaps fallen in with de Rainault, or worse. What did he mean? Why bother sending me a letter with so little information?

On the third day, while trying to calm an increasingly restive Josephine, I resolved, whatever the risk, to write to Hugo for more information. If he had at last double- crossed me, which I really didn't believe in my heart, then my letter would do no harm. If he hadn't perhaps he could give me the answers I needed. Taking a quill, some ink and a piece of Priory parchment, I made my way towards the Priory garden. Before I even ventured out of the arched entrance, however, the answer to Hugo's cryptic letter arrived.

I was convinced I was dreaming. As I stood there in the archway of the main entrance to the Priory, my daughter clutching my hand, I saw a vision created by a mind that was delirious with emotion. Tall, lean, pouring with sweat from what must have been a frantic ride, breathing heavily and trembling from head to foot, was my answer.

"Guy!" I whispered.

But he was no illusion. Clear as the day, hair stirring in the cool Autumn breeze, blue eyes boring into mine as he grew closer, long legs urging his exhausted steed a little further on, there he was. Fury slowed from a canter to a trot, and my legs, shaking as they were, hurled me towards horse and rider.

I watched as he dismounted Fury, and for one perfect, delicious moment of suspense he stood before me. He was pouring with sweat despite the chill of the day, and heat was coming off his body in waves.

"You're the answer?" I whispered. "To Abbot Hugo's letter?" I didn't dare come any closer to him-I needed confirmation that the man I saw before me wasn't just going to turn his horse and ride away from his daughter and I once more.

Guy nodded, breathless from the ride. His knees looked as though they were about to give way, and he had dark shadows under his eyes. The horse next to him also looked fit to drop.

"Tell me what's happened!" I insisted. "Tell me you're never going back." I couldn't touch him, couldn't give myself that pleasure until I knew exactly what our next steps were to be.

Guy drew a breath, and slowly raised a hand to touch my face. I couldn't help but notice how violently it trembled. Finally, he spoke. To my relief, his voice was as clear and commanding as ever I remembered it to be. "I'm free of him," he said.

The very words seemed to restore the energy in both of us. With that simple sentence, I knew his words to be true.

"Guy," I murmured again, at a loss for any other words.

Gently, he pulled me close to him, lifting me off my feet with the strength of his embrace. The warmth of his body gave me the strength I had been lacking for so long, and I threw my arms around him, covering his face with the kisses I had been unable, up until now to give him.

"But how?" I gasped, when I was finally able to speak.

"My mother's dead." Guy said simply, returning me to my feet. "She held in trust all that my father had left her; the land, the castle, the livestock. After all these years of assuming that my inheritance was bound for the church, I had no idea there was so much left." He shook his head.

"I'm sorry about your mother," I said.

Guy shook his head dismissing my comment, and continued. "As soon as I knew that I would be able to be free of the Sheriff, and support you and Josephine, I made de Rainault an offer he couldn't refuse." A flicker of amusement glinted in his eyes. "Your former husband's lust for money is something I knew how to take advantage of."

"Former husband?" I asked. Dissolution of our marriage was impossible-or so I had thought.

"From two days ago, you are no longer the wife of Robert de Rainault," Guy said. "While Hugo doesn't have the power to dissolve a marriage, the Sheriff decided that his brother's communication with the higher powers was more than enough to annul it. So, perhaps in the eyes of the law you are still married, but in every other area, you are free." The glint in his eyes became a grin. "And now you are free to return with me to the estate, and I can be the father to Josephine that I should have been from the day she was born."

I couldn't take i all in at once. Having resigned myself to taking the veil and losing my daughter, suddenly everything had changed. A ridiculous thought popped into my mind and before I could stop myself I'd blurted it out. "Where's Rosa?" I asked.

Guy's face, with his wonderful once-a-year smile, lit up. "Safely installed with her foal at the Gisburne estate. Where you, me and Josephine will be before the week's end."

Standing there, the man I loved at my side, our child playing without nervousness with the mane of the black stallion that had brought him to me, I realised how close I had come to losing them both forever. At that moment, that blissful, perfect moment, my new life with Guy, so long denied us both, began; this angry, difficult, arrogant man had returned to me. I could never have dreamed, or asked, for more.

THE END


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